Despite being packed with hooks, the album too often falls back on conventional contemporary pop.
The track is a transgressive, capital-S statement that isn’t spit-shined for mass consumption.
As much as Smith tries to step out of the box, the singer still sounds most comfortable playing to their previously established strengths.
With Good Thing, Bridges brings his classicist R&B chops into the current century—with mixed results.
The album feels more like a fine-tuning than a bold new adventure for the singer-songwriter.
So, as voters make their little Leonardo DiCaprio dodge Lady Gaga on the 12-bit red carpet, so will the real Leo once again dodge Gaga as the latter walks to the podium with Diane Warren.
As confident as they seem to burrow deeper into their own brand, there remains the edge of paranoia that drove some of their last album’s post-millennial tenser moments.
This is a race more of less between two albums: One great and daring, one mediocre and safe.
Just as the correlation between Record of the Year and Song of the Year seems to be truly drifting apart, along comes a nearly five-for-five slate.
The closer this category flirts with mainstream appeal, the closer we are to wholly justifiable nominations for, say, “Turn Down for What.”
There are a few sure bets in life: rain, taxes, and, until recently, a female artist winning the Grammy for Best New Artist.
Listen to a playlist of the best singles of the year on YouTube and Spotify.
The album is proof that despite the forward march of progress, there will always be hearts plagued by love that lives in the shadows.
British singer-songwriter Sam Smith’s rich, soulful vocals are pitched up and down, looped, and otherwise beautifully disfigured.
Paul Morrison’s Wondrous Oblivion might have gone down easier if it weren’t so honeyed.