Silver Wrists

NAIMEE COLEMAN

Silver Wrists (Lime/Chrysalis)

I Saw Naimee Coleman on TV recently, singing a flawless version of The Beatles’ ‘With A Little Help From My Friends’, proving that, given the right material, the former Wilde Oscar has what it takes to go right to the top.

Unfortunately, her current single and album opener, ‘Care About You’, doesn’t quite exercise the same quality control, and Silver Wrists as a whole falls somewhere between the two, although thankfully closer to the higher end of the scale.

Naimee’s major asset is her voice. This may seem an obvious statement, but when you listen to her sumptuous vocal flourishes on the beautiful ‘Still She Sings’, it is impossible not to be impressed by her range and delivery. Her voice is at once soaring and haunting, embellished perfectly by a swooping string section. With a voice like this, she is incapable of sounding banal.

The title track is a nicely-paced ballad, not unlike Madonna, but Naimee’s vocal chords are far superior to those of La Ciccone. Previous single ‘Ruthless Affection’ is gently catchy, while the whimsical ‘Sometimes’ is the most infectious track on the album. On the latter, Naimee displays an innocence far more beguiling than the world-weary worry of much of the other fare on offer: “I love the way you are so grown-up, with the eyes of a child.”

The closing track, ‘Hold Tight’, is possibly the finest track present, though, its less rigid structure allowing her voice the freedom to roam between the notes. Again, the strings complement her sweet tones to good effect.

None of the songs on Silver Wrists are actually bad; it’s just that some of the arrangements veer worryingly towards the middle of the road. The music acts merely as a backdrop to Naimee’s voice, while some inspired playing would have added to the effect without diminishing the power in her tonsils.

‘Better Than This’ is a case in point: an over-polished effort that will appeal to those 30-somethings who think The Corrs are the future of contemporary Irish music. “I tried my very best to be satisfied with who I am,” explains Naimee on ‘True’, and ends up soul-searching in one of the most soul-less musical genres of all time.

Silver Wrists is a fine debut, granted, but I can’t help feeling that with a little more artistic freedom and imagination, Naimee Coleman could have created the kind of masterpiece not seen from this island since a certain shaven-headed songstress gave us The Lion And The Cobra.

John Walshe