Drama is an appropriate name for singer-songwriter Nicole Atkins’ latest record. Her performances carry a strong theatrical element, with pop-noir vocals backed by brash instrumentation that declares the emotional intensity of her isolation. She feels alone and howls to reassure herself; as a result, the listener gets lost in her swirling dynamics and metaphorically bleeds with her.
Marking her first full-length studio album in more than six years, Atkins‘ Drama arrives via the newly revived Sun Records label under Chris Isaak’s new Wicked Game Records imprint. Isaak, a long-time advocate of Atkins, joins her on the single “Cue the Symphony.” His Roy Orbison-like operatic tones bring out her feminine mystique as the vowel sounds linger and blend.
Pat Sansone (Wilco) produced the record and puts Atkins’ voice front and center. The production has a beautifully retro feel, echoing 1960s classics like Lee Hazlewood’s creations for Nancy Sinatra. Atkins’ voice is simultaneously vulnerable and strong as Sansone wraps it in a lush mix of horns, bass, and drum lines. The entire experience is deeply cinematic; each song feels like its own movie.
Atkins remains vulnerable even when she takes charge. Her protagonists are highly aware of their predicaments and actively seek solace. The singer’s solution to a failing relationship is to start over with her old lover on “Like a Stranger”, or to feel “Like It’s the First Time”, even when it is the same old routine. When she finds herself alone, she starts “Singing in the Mirror” to avoid crying, an analog to whistling in the dark to bolster her spirits.
The lyrics are full of references to weeping, especially on the moody “Trippin’ on Teardrops”. Here, the singer admits that sometimes she enjoys wallowing in her sorrows as an agreeable way to pass the time; feeling sorrow beats sleeping through life. Other tracks, such as “Danny” and “For No One”, celebrate doomed affairs as better than none. In Atkins’ world, it is better to have loved and lost and a lot more fun, even considering the agony of it all.
There are no lighthearted tunes on the record. Even the quieter tracks, such as “Softly, As You Were”, are outlined in darkness. The first-person narrators struggle with doubt, dread, and others’ negative views. However, they are never victims, survivors, or tragic heroines. The richness of Atkins’ voice suggests they are complex beings who perhaps feel too much, but that is exactly what makes them relatable. Everybody hurts sometimes, as R.E.M. used to tell us. That does not always make us stronger, but it does make us human.
Nicole Atkins has a rollicking sensibility that adds a certain boisterousness to the record. Even when she’s loudly kvetching, one can sense an exultant gleam in her voice. She’s a tough lady who can find pleasure in the pain and delight in failure. This grand dramatic effect suggests these songs would be spectacular to experience live in concert. In the meantime, I suggest playing this LOUD.