This is pretty much what you could expect to hear in many clubs as a supporting act. Straightforward, this-is-how-I-feel- and-this-is-my-song music. But the music never penetrates and the lyrics never wrap themselves around your brain. You’d listen to Chris Lee, and think, “That was nice. What’s on next?”
I’m sure Lee is quite sincere. He’s obviously talented. And yet, he’s really rather boring and his music never really commands your attention. Sigh, the fact is, this is another unmemorable singer-songwriter hyped as “the next big thing.” Chris Lee plays extremely basic, unremarkable guitar-bass-drums (plus keyboards on two songs) rock and roll music that does what it does well enough, I suppose, but the perennial question pops up: Is it worth doing?
Lyrically, like the stranger you meet at a party who corners you and tells you all about his unsuccessful relationships, Lee seems to want you to embrace him for his failures. You’re not unsympathetic, but at the same time you want to get away from the guy so you can enjoy the party.
Musically, the voice is there, the songs are there, the music is there, but yet somehow, they’re not there. This is the rock music equivalent of wallpaper, and it’s too plain to really enhance anyone’s living environment.
Nothing much more to say about him. This music is too insubstantial in the worst kind of way: That which thinks it’s making a strong statement, but really isn’t. Awfully cute cat on the cover, though.
// Notes from the Road
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