There’s a very distinct whiff of Gloria Estefan on the disco-synth pop dance of opening track Roses of Ice (Now It Is You), but whereas the percussive clutter on tracks such as Conga created a palpable carnival atmosphere, here it’s a bit of a shambles when they rattle around in breaks from the flavourless drum beat, more successful are the flute and electric guitar solos at the track’s close. Meanwhile the lyrics are lost in the mix, so whilst Graciela has a decent voice it just seems to be going through the motions, though if the lyrics of It Will Rain are anything to go by it might be for the best; ‘It will rain on top of us, over my skin and your new trousers, I don’t want to keep your jumper’ she sings on the chorus, the details sitting peculiarly rather than quirkily and the track’s rhythm is stuttering and peculiar whilst there’s a distinct sense of auto-tune to the vocal that doesn’t particulary help.
It’s back to dance pop on Way Of Life, the slap bass and hi-hat shimmering beat gives things a slightly grimier feel, but whilst Graciela does – as she did on the scat ending to the previous track – show off some range that pesky auto-tune keeps tidying up the end of phrases and if anything is a huge detriment to her ability. A rap appears half way through and is quickly forgotten about, the song works better when Jaal’s 80s-style guitar noodling comes in towards the end and makes an interesting contrast to Graciela’s smooth vocal.
Elsewhere We Think (In Love) is a slower paced number, twinkling with early-90s production flourishes, building towards a weird buzzing, throbbing dancefloor bassline, it’s the kind of tune that perhaps exists for early in the evening at sun-kissed nightclubs; gently suggesting that maybe there’ll be a party later.
50 second ‘interlude’ Alala is by far the most interesting track on the record so far, with Graciela singing in a somewhat Middle Eastern fashion over strangely mumbled male vocals and slightly ominous ambience, it’s a huge shame that the twinkling bells and trite Spanish guitar that opens the following track, I Let You Go, My Friend is, by comparison, a step back into the xerox pop territory that hangs around this record like an albatross. There’s another interlude later, It Could Be Me, which goes for a more soul-gospel route, layering multiple vocal tracks on top of one another, but it sounds too clean and shiny to match the joy and expression one would hope for.
It’s followed by ballad Everything that has a downtempo Michael Jackson-esque drum and bass line, but the arrangment ultimately feels like a backing track unassociated with Graciela’s vocal, just something that exists behind her voice and the disconnect is jarring. Jaunty Latin-flavoured dance tune Samba In My Soul goes back to the record’s early Estefan-cribbing roots, except feeling a little too restrained and muted to inspire the booty shaking that Graciela references, ‘Can you feel it?’ she asks, and the answer is ‘No, not really.’ It’s hard to write great pop music, and sometimes when an artist tries to their efforts can smack more of laziness than anything else, perhaps that’s more because the songs here feel more indebted to others than borne of any individuality than anything else. Sure, it’s hard to be truly original, but when you have a party song that feels forced then people probably aren’t going to want to party to it.
Final track When A Woman Falls In Love strips things down a fair bit, with Graciela’s voice, guitar and double bass, going for that confessional bitter-romantic style, and whilst she can deliver vocally the song feels more like a showreel piece than something ripped from the heart. There are a number of talented performers appearing across this record, including Graciela herself, but there seems to be a peculiar lack of conviction to how this album is put together that leaves the listener feeling alien to its songs. It’s ultimately a very vanilla affair that possibly might divert undemanding ears.
[Rating:2]
