Natalie Imbruglia, White Lilies Island
Lovely sonic Easter eggs, a broad range and hooks for days
The most important thing to remember about karaoke is that you should only pick songs that your audience knows. Or can pick up easily. A number of years ago, I forgot that rule. I was so shocked to see the first single from Natalie Imbruglia's second album in the songbook that I impulsively hit the code and called up the Australian singer/songwriter/actress/model's "Wrong Impression." When it finally came up, we had to stop the song halfway through.
There may have been alcohol involved.
This isn't to say that "Wrong Impression" is a bad karaoke song. Indeed, if every person in the room had been watching as many music videos as I had in the summer of 2002, there would have been mirth, mayhem, merriment. As it had for most people in the world, though, Imbruglia's White Lilies Island had passed my audience by. That's a shame. (Trust me, I don't say that simply out of bitterness.)
Unlike its dollar bin-clogging predecessor Left of the Middle — an album buoyed by mega-hit "Torn" — White Lilies Island has lovely sonic Easter eggs, a broad range and hooks for days. And the lyrics! They're suspect and spectacular in equal measure — the way pop music surely should be. "Satellite" details how we are Imbruglia's satellite, how we're burning up and how she's trying to keep us in sight. Is it just me, or is this a frightening proposition instead of something befitting its carefree Joni Mitchell setting? "Butterflies," meanwhile, contains the immortal couplet: "Cut the stomach and hand it over/ My heart will be the bridge that you walk over."
The delicious weirdness of that line, however, is indicative of all the little bits that make White Lilies Island so special. "Beauty on the Fire"'s electronic backing is cut by distorted guitars; "Do You Love?" is as insipid as its title makes it sound until it hits its ferocious and cathartic chorus; "Sunlight" eases in much like Jewel's "Standing Still," but Imbruglia's song actually rocks.
Granted, the "r" word — something you'd never associate with Imbruglia if you only knew "Torn" — is the key to the album's success. The best stuff on the album reflects the tension between the commercial instincts of her record label and her own harder-edged instincts, a push-pull that would be slackened by the time her third album came around, a full-on guitar assault. Sometimes a bit of commercial pressure is a good thing.
Had I had the time (or sobriety) to explain, I'm sure my karaoke crew would have understood.
