The recent spate of solo English females gaining a foothold on U.S. charts (Lily Allen, Lady Sovereign, and Amy Winehouse) seems to indicate that Yanks have a higher tolerance for acidity when it's delivered with an accent. Rather than merely standing their ground in the battle of the sexes, these ladies are often mocking aggressors themselves. North American contemporaries like Beyoncé, Ciara, and Nelly Furtado may be occasionally prickly and even defiant, but they remain likeable; their Brit counterparts, meanwhile, openly court misanthropy.
Estelle possesses some of this facility for table-turning spite; that much is clear from the teasing way she puts off a would-be seducer on "Wait a Minute (Just a Touch)", the opening track on her U.S. debut, Shine. Its successor, "No Substitute Love", which cleverly incorporates George Michael's "Faith", is also verbally steely, as is "Magnificent", which cautions, "Don't tell me you love me just 'cause you're in the mood." Such lines may paint Estelle as a bitter pill, but listen again. The likes of Allen and Winehouse thrill some with their unsparing bluntness and strike others as simply noxious, but that's not really Estelle's bag: she's far more humane.
That Estelle isn't consumed with what she doesn't want and what you can't touch is evident by the third song, "American Boy", a crossover bid featuring Kanye West that predictably namechecks U.S. cities and landmarks but nonetheless features an irresistible hook and wonderfully buzzy synths courtesy of producer Will.I.Am. The remainder of the record is likewise stuffed with star beatmakers (Mark Ronson, Wyclef Jean, Swizz Beatz) and vocal guests (John Legend, Cee-Lo), meaning consistency is inevitably sacrificed to spectacle; however, when the overall effect is one of dynamism rather than incongruity, a little jumping around is forgivable.
In particular, the warmth and open space of old soul better suits Estelle's unpretentious, matter-of-fact nature than Winehouse's contrived soak in sin, so the tough-but-pleading "More Than Friends" and outright revivalist "Pretty Please (Love Me)" (with its perfect full-throated cameo by Cee-Lo) are both clear album highlights. The sun-kissed reggae lilts of "Magnificent" (featuring Ronson's patented booming backbeats) and "Come Over" are also seamless fits, even as they bring out Estelle's unshakeable likeness to Lauryn Hill (surely the presence of Wyclef elsewhere on the record doesn't help). Shine's sheer sonic bigness and slightly schizophrenic musicality threatens to overwhelm Estelle's individuality as the record progresses, though she admirably muscles to the fore on the super-busy "So Much Out the Way" with ear-catching darts like "Weezy make it rain but I'm holding the umbrella." Unfortunately, when her candid toughness is needed most-- to bolster the generic modern soul of "Back in Love" and "You Are"-- Estelle recedes into affectlessness (where her duet partner on the latter song, John Legend, permanently resides).
Shine's lingering impression is that of several talented cooks crammed into a tiny kitchen, each crafting something delicious with little regard for the meal as a whole. And maybe we don't get a great feel for the overall vision of the woman who puts her name on the marquee. As a burgeoning performer, Estelle's outlook and approach has yet to solidify, but considering how unflattering a rigid artistic mien can often be, that's far from an indictment.
