This Album is a Work of Art

This album is a work of art, flowing smoothly from one track to the next in a cohesive statement of hope amidst human frailty, accomplished, astonishingly, while satisfying widely varied demands from fans, as well as allowing the artist to push beyond the boundaries of her expected genre. I celebrate the careful choices -and the voice- that created this perfect gem of an album.

You Have to Be There is a dramatic song for a dramatic voice, and Susan does it superbly. With her trademark ability to convey the most subtle of emotions, in this single song she gives us uncertainty, doubt, fear, wistfulness, anger, determination---and ultimately, hope.

Unchained Melody. I've been a great fan of the Righteous Brothers' version, but although I've enjoyed it as music, I've never been moved by it, as I have been with Susan's version. There's been criticism of its extremely slow tempo but there is NOTHING as slow as time when you are desperate for it to pass, there's nothing as bewildering or as humbling as experiencing for the first time the fullness of human capacity for need of another, and, in that state of mind, there is nothing as devastating as imagining what the passage of time might bring. If the song is difficult to listen to at Susan's pace, it's only because she's singing this kind of longing exactly as it is. I find it to be perhaps the loneliest song I've ever heard - and almost unbearably beautiful.

Enjoy the Silence. I admire Susan's courage and her facility in handling this departure from her "usual" type of song, and I'm thrilled with the acclaim it's gotten from a new listening demographic. Doubtful at first, I've found that I welcome its juxtaposition with the tracks that come before and after it on the album...it works here, and the album benefits from the texture it adds.

Both Sides Now. Another old favorite that I feel I never really heard until Susan gave us her interpretation. Earlier, familiar renditions have been sung with a kind of pretty insouciance, but the difference between illusion and reality is obviously something Susan finds serious enough to sing with careful deliberation. Who better than Susan to understand the contradictory connection between gain and loss? I'm intrigued by the implication of the hanging chord at the very end of the song. I see it as a musical ellipsis; a reference to the ongoing education of life.

Lilac Wine delights me from its sultry beginning to its exceedingly lovely last note. I understand that there is a real message of longing for love in the lyrics, but the melody is so full of surprises, and is such a glorious display of Susan's astonishing vocal abilities that I inevitably end up grinning with the sheer pleasure of listening (and I listen to it a lot.)

Mad World. A serious song given thoughtful treatment by Susan. My first impression on hearing it was "Boring," but the song continues to grow on me and, as with Enjoy the Silence, I feel that the interpretation is perfect for the lyrics and that the song well fits its placement on the album. Susan sings with the detachment of an observer, with the possible exception of her first chorus of "I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad" where she allows us to see her emotional reaction to that which she observes.

Autumn Leaves. Heartbreakingly lovely. Susan's ability to create an emotional atmosphere is unequalled. "My Little Fish, don't cry" may be the most tenderly-sung words I've ever heard. The ultimate message of this song is not sadness, but the hope that comes with the recognition of immortality in the human traits that are passed from generation to generation.

This Will Be the Year. I love this song. I love thinking of it as it applies to Susan's courage in accepting the challenges of not just a late-life career, but a rigorous career that catapulted her, without warning, to the very top of the game. Her handling of this specially-written song is proof that she deserves that place at the top.

Return is destined to be a new slow-dance classic, an ode to romanticism and a showcase for Susan's biggest, no-holds barred voice; a song that builds and builds to the most satisfactory and thrilling of endings. Compelling. Irresistible.

Someone to Watch Over Me...a beautifully-sung segment of the well-known Gershwin tune, wisely used as a quiet footnote. (I think the entire song, used here, would have sounded dated and trivial.) It ends the album with a sweet promise of things to come.

About the author: Leigh is a moderator on the Susan Boyle fan website, http://susanboylereal.ning.com.