There’s a lot of responsibility that comes with being the new shining star on the horizon, but it’s to Sam Smith’s credit that he hasn’t let that luster blind him to the basic tenants of his profession: to come across as soulfully honest as possible and not elevate the music to levels of detachment. Only two albums in, Waiting on You packs a powerful punch and affirms the reasons why the positive press has been so fast and furious of late. It’s a muscular set of songs in a properly nuanced sort of way, but the strains of southern earnestness and a Van Morrison-like bearing create the perfect crosscurrent, one that suggests no particular place in particular, but rather anywhere that might find a sense of wistfulness a reaction to all the accompanying travails.
Lewis’ sincerity and sentiment suggest there are no airs about his demeanor and no pretension when it comes to his subjects. He wields a voice as rich as molasses one moment, rumbles with deliberation the next, and sings soulfully and serenely in between. His is a vocal that echoes the ages, one that’s instantly striking and yet seems like it’s been making its imprint forever. It’s true, tempered emotion, as authentic as the moan of the delta, or multiple geographical settings where a softer hue is required
On the surface, some might mistake him for a country crooner, if for no other reason than the album’s first track, “3/4 Time”, gives every indication he’s a committed heartland troubadour. However, that notion is quickly dispelled as the album unfolds, it’s back porch flavor allowing the possibility that he’s inhabiting the high plains and glancing towards the distance. The same can be said of songs such as “Reinventing the Blues”, “Texas” and “Little Time”. Yet Lewis’ material reach deeper into the psyche than any one genre might allow. The lovely “Never Again” boasts a melody that brings to mind Jesse Winchester’s “Brand New Tennessee Waltz”, with the singer offering an ode to a dearly departed. “I thought I’d see you one more time before never again.” Here, the pain and regret are all too obvious in equal measure.
Likewise, the two tunes that end the album, “Virginia Avenue” and “I’m Coming Home”, address a universal emotion, that of the need to embrace hearth and home, or more specifically, the places and things that draw us closer to our roots and those who nurtured us so early on. The lovely refrain of the latter provides an especially touching final coda, one that elevates the album to an even higher plain. It’s further indication that Lewis knows how to tap into those same sensibilities that inspire us all.
Of course, initial notoriety doesn’t necessarily translate to ongoing success. The music biz is fickle, and no matter what the level of adoration, it’s the ability to sustain that leads to success. Either way, Waiting On You is the kind of album that resonates well and will likely be a listening staple for some time to come.