Leona Naess has the kind of sultry, wounded voice that jazz legends are made of. But she is no chanteuse- in fact, there are very few jazz influences at work on this self-titled album, her third major-label release. She often sounds like she\'s had one too many glasses of Scotch, so her confessional style of folk-pop lends itself nicely to that atmosphere. Listening to this album, her third major-label release, it often feels like you just pulled up a bar stool next to her as she started singing her troubles. Or that you ran across her at a campfire and she pulled out her acoustic guitar to lament lost love into the night sky. The album sounds organic and warm, the sparse accompaniment allowing her distinctive voice to shine through. (A strong Edie Brickell influence is evident in the character of her voice, a sort of little-girl innocence mixed with the Scotch.)
The album opens on a high note with "Calling" - it is warm and catchy with an appealing chorus that is sung in a round, enhancing the organic, campfire-like quality of the album. "Don\'t Use My Broken Heart" has a nice motion - its 6/8 time signature manages to avoid the cliche of sounding like an Irish drinking song and instead sounds almost oceanic. "He\\\'s Gone" is one of the more rhythmic tracks on the album - the lyrics sing a thinly veiled sex-as-dancing metaphor and the music mirrors that feeling nicely.
The middle of the album gets bogged down by a few too many downers. "Star Signs" is sad and slow, as is "Ballerina". They sort of run together into a motionless depression that feels authentic but nonetheless wears you down. "Dues to Pay" is a little more toe-tappable, but still remarkably dark ("It\'s only been pain loving you/ You\'re my dues to pay.")
The album recovers with "Yes, It\'s Called Desire" - another 6/8 ballad, but one that sounds hopeful. Naess pushes toward her upper register on this one and a feeling of joy results. "How Sweet" works on the strength of Naess\\\'s triple-tracked vocal harmonies alone, despite the return to sadness.
"Home" is by far the best track on the album, opening with a bright and jangly electric guitar riff and building its sound until it culminates with a harpsichord-sounding keyboard accent. In keeping with the rest of the album, the lyrics are dark, but the sound is hooky and peppy, truly infectious.
The tone comes down again with "Christmas", another mournful ballad with a dark string arrangement in the bridge. Again maintaining the theme of the album, "One Kind of Love" starts out slow and sad but eventually resolves to a hopeful polyphony - a pleasant note to end an album on.
The production on the album is flawless throughout - super-producer Ethan Johns\\\'s expert hand is hard to miss. Arranger and pianist Richard Causon contributes much as well - his keyboard parts are always pitch-perfect, providing interesting rhythmic and textural counterpoints. (Incidentally, Naess has an interesting pedigree. Her father is Arne Naess, former husband of Diana Ross, though there is next to no Motown influence in Naess\\\'s songwriting.)
Overall, this is a pleasant if not earth-shattering album that excels on the character of Naess\\\'s voice. A little quiet but appealingly intimate, it makes an excellent companion to albums by similar artists that have followed its lead, such as Feist, Regina Spektor, and Corinne Bailey Rae.
"Leona Naess" is on sale September 16, 2003 from Geffen.
