Lee Ryan and Duncan James, both of Blue, Ronan Keating, and Westlife all have albums out in the last few months. Here are they surveyed, as specimen of the British-type boyband and the soloists it has produced.
A graduate of Boyzone, Keating is, next to Robbie Williams, the patriarch of ex-boyband soloists, and as such, his work deserves first mention. Bring You Home is his fifth studio album, his first since Ten Years of Hits released over a year ago. It crystallizes what has become his trademark sound since leaving Boyzone – a mix of MOR, country and traditional rock – a fact which perhaps explains the title of the collection.
Thus, a number of tracks recall earlier efforts. This I Promise You, the next single, is If Tomorrow Never Comes in a different key. All over Again, a duet with Kate Rusby and possibly the album’s most engaging track, recalls his duet with LeAn Rimes, The Last Thing on My Mind. The first track, Friends in Time, harks back, in tune and tenor, to Since 13, a B-side for Life Is a Rollercoaster, the first single off his eponymous debut solo album.
As to be expected, there are covers: the carrier single Iris, originally recorded by the Goo-Goo Dolls, and To Be Loved, recorded by his one-time ward Westlife. Only the second, though, may be said to be a cover version, as the first is, disappointingly, note by note and phrase by phrase, a copy of a song too recently a hit to be covered with any freshness. Keating’s version of To Be Loved is acoustically arranged – a contrast to the somewhat inflated version of Westlife’s and also a reinvention of the song.
The album has not been so warmly received as his previous efforts, but that Keating has nonetheless earned his stripes is indicated by the fact that Jamie Cullum, that remarkable, irreverent reinventor of standards, invested his songwriting talents in the album. On the whole, however, it is an Irish Bryan Adams (post-’80s and much mellowed) we hear, full of both what is hokey and what is heartfelt, certain to please fans.
While Keating is descended from what one might call the immaculate branch of the boyband family tree, both Ryan and James come from the recently disbanded Blue, which represents the other branch: the grittier, hipper, never-to-be-caught-wearing-a-suit-and-tie one, and to them we now turn.
Ryan’s self-titled album is replete with songs requiring the full-throated singing that has made him one of the better vocalists in his genre. The sound is decidedly soulful, with the influences of Marvin Gaye and Luther Vandross in evidence (e.g., When I Think of You). Ryan displays the enviable range and timbre of his voice, beginning the album, for instance, with a song without an instrumental intro, but happily avoids superfluous flourishes.
The songs are easy on the ears, and listeners are bound to be hooked from the first track to the sixth, arguably the best songs in the album. At turns bouncy (Real Love, familiar to audiences of the movie Ice Age II and Wish the Whole World New) and balladic (How Do I?, the new single, and Parking), the album is at least never boring and in most places pleasant.
It is unfortunate, therefore, that the album has only been moderately successful. Simon Webbe, the third member of Blue to release a solo album, seems to have had more airtime, though, to some ears at least, he sings in a monotone. A voice like Ryan’s, which in a song like Jump aspires to Sting’s, deserves more attention.
James is Ryan’s vocal counterpoint when both were in Blue, in the same way that Keating was Stephen Gately’s in Boyzone, his heavier "cigarette voice" a contrast to the "purity" of Ryan’s. He puts it (and his songwriting skills) to good use in his first solo album, as Ryan does in his.
The album is oxymoronically entitled Future Past, although judging by the sound. it seems to dwell more in the past than to look forward to the future. It is a collection of radio-friendly tunes, the type that made Blue the success that it was some years back. The carrier single Sooner or Later is indicative of the generally foot-tapping quality of the other songs. Suffer, which in places sounds like a cross between Drowning and All Rise, Turn My Head, which has hints of ’80s New Wave, and the remake of Amazed, originally recorded by Lonestar, are all in perfect pop order.
Two tracks are remarkable: Can’t Stop a River, the new single, co-written by Seal, has a gospel feel to it that should remind listeners of Simply Red; and Letter to God stands out as a song with existential aspirations.
On the whole, a good pop album and a respectable debut it is. The only disappointment is that it does not include James’ first venture outside of Blue: I Believe My Heart, a duet with Keedie, which is taken from the latest musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber, The Woman in White. (To get that, listeners have to get Gold: The Definitive Hit Singles Collection, the latest Lloyd Webber compilation.)
And now, to Westlife, the only surviving boyband from the ’90s. When Bryan McFadden left the group, the end of Westlife was thought imminent. But Westlife (Shane Filan, Mark Feehily, Kian Egan and Nicky Bryne) has since managed to put out four albums. Three of them, including their latest work, were UK No. 1’s. At the rate things are going, the group bids fair (for good or ill) to outlast the soloists, just as they have already surpassed their peers.
As an all-cover, theme album, The Love Album is effete compared to Allow Us to Be Frank, where the boys sang the music of the Rat Pack. An album like this is only as the song choices. What the boys have assembled (in their view the best love songs) is nothing audacious, so that the overall feel is "business as usual."
The album begins with The Rose, a hit for Bette Middler in 1980. While it is a glorious recording of a beautiful song, hymn-like in structure and paradoxical in imagery, releasing it as the carrier single only reinforces the impression that the boys are running out of either fresh material or fresh takes on old material. It sounds too close to their still recent remake of You Raise Me Up – a case not unlike Keating’s Iris. Somewhat out of place, too, for the same reason, is All or Nothing, a nod to fellow boyband, the now defunct O-Town.
Business as usual, then, this may be, but it is not a bad business. The album has much to plead for it and the group. Easy, originally recorded by the Commodores, showcases the possibilities of Feehily’s voice, as does the last track, a cover of the Righteous Brothers’ You’ve Lost that Loving Feeling (the falsettos are nothing to sneeze at). You Light My Life and You Are so Beautiful (to Me) are, at the very least, interesting. The boldest track, however, is the boys’ version of Total Eclipse of the Heart, a recording worth the listening for the sheer frisson between Filan and Feehily.
Since the break up of Take That in 1998, boys who have attempted to go solo have not been successful. Robbie Williams’ case is unique. That Keating has managed to produce a fifth studio album bodes well for him. Would that Ryan and James have the same longevity, as surely they deserve it. As for Westlife, it seems that the boys are smart enough to know that they are worth more together than any of them singly and that moreover, if they kept at it, they could be their fans’ children’s idols, just as they are already their fans’ mothers’ favorites now. And that, it seems, is the moral of the British boyband story.