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WHAT
advice do you suppose Mariah Carey will have for the
American Idol contestants when she appears on the
show as a mentor, part of the media blitz launching the
follow-up to her big comeback album, 2005’s The
Emancipation of Mimi? One thing she can do is
encourage vocal restraint, which would be ironic coming
from a singer whose early records contributed to the
uncontrolled showiness that afflicts so many Idol
participants. But it’s true: On Mimi and even
more so on E=MC2, out Tuesday, Carey is searching
for alternatives to the glass-shattering flamboyance of
her early ’90s youth.
And when
it comes to career counsel, the new album carries the
operative message: Don’t mess with success.
E=MC2 is
nearly a clone of The Emancipation of Mimi—from
the exotica-tinged hip-hop hybrid that kicks it off
(“It’s Like That” there, the T-Pain duet “Migrate” here)
to a speaking appearance by her pastor, Clarence Keaton,
on the finale. In between is another carefully
calculated mix of mainstream R&B in its dance, pop and
old-school manifestations.
This is
the happily-ever-after part of Carey’s fairy tale, which
is more Ugly Duckling than Cinderella. Perhaps because
she had been so successful in the ’90s, her commercial
decline and emotional breakdown at the start of this
decade came to be seen as a sort of cosmic retribution
for her—and the record industry’s, while we’re at
it—decadence and excess. She wasn’t merely exiled, she
was ridiculed, setting up her improbable cycle of
transformation and triumph with Mimi, which sold
6 million copies.
That
redemption wasn’t guaranteed, but the task of securing
and extending it should be easier. It’s not as if the
new album’s cautious nature compromises some kind of
bold artistry. Amid the drama of her comeback and the
hoopla over her record-breaking chart numbers, it’s easy
to forget that Mimi wasn’t exactly a great album.
E=MC2
is a little better—the songwriting is more consistent,
the feel a bit more natural—but it, too, lacks a ruling
temperament or artistic vision. Without that, it’s a
savvy sampler of mainstream commercial craft, plush
aural lounges designed and furnished by producers and
writers including Jermaine Dupri, Timbaland associate
Nate “Danja” Hills and hip-hop’s Swizz Beatz.
That
often leaves Carey sounding like an ersatz Beyoncé, and
she never approaches the cathartic soulfulness of Mary
J. Blige or the auteur credentials of Alicia Keys.
What’s
most striking about the album is the further toning down
of Carey’s famously powerful voice. She always was
criticized as a technically gifted singer with no
interpretive intelligence or instincts, but now that the
instrument itself sounds physically diminished, she
seems to be groping toward some kind of expressive
ground. Those signature high notes pierce the
stratosphere a couple of times, but she’s even more
reticent to wail—there’s no counterpart to Mimi’s showy
“Mine Again” or “Joyride.”
Instead,
Carey tests registers and dynamics. In “I’ll Be Lovin’
You Long Time,” her singing is so direct, understated
and unglamorous, it’s almost shocking—like seeing a diva
without makeup. The piano ballad “I Stay in Love” is
similarly unadorned, and her voice is almost leathery in
the lower notes. It’s not flattering, but it rings true
emotionally.
But this
is a process rather than a realization for Carey, whose
moments of discovery are random, the products of chance
rather than considered choice. Many of the songs on
E=MC2 are lightweight enough that they don’t demand
much revelation, but the sassy hit “Touch My Body,” for
one, could use more sensuality. And when lyrics are more
demanding, things are hit-and-miss.
Carey
captures the theme of self-repression and emotional
damage in “Side Effects,” a teaming with rapper Young
Jeezy, by keeping her vocal taut and reined in. She
works up some gospel grit on “I Wish You Well,” but the
demands of the larger-than-life anthem “Bye Bye,” a
salute to departed loved ones, are beyond her reach.
Of
course, consistency isn’t so important when an album is
assembled as a series of singles rather than a cohesive
work. Fortunately for Carey, the tabloid-tailored
real-life back story on one side and the producer’s
craft on the other matter more than the art of singing
in this particular fairy tale. |
