British singer-songwriter Ed Harcourt's latest release was 2007's Until Tomorrow Then (The Best of Ed Harcourt), and it was a little hard to believe he'd have such a comp given his modestly successful decade run. Following the best-of, Harcourt moved to the small New York label Dovecote in 2008 to re-release 2006's Beautiful Lie for his U.S. audience, and now he's back with a new studio album.
Harcourt's best asset is his colorful voice. But his lyrics are either clichéd-- "I'm a recipe for disaster" or bad-poet dramatic-- "I'm wrapped in lachrymosity" (both from the chorus of "Lachrymosity"). And because his voice is the centerpiece of most songs, the lyrics are always in-your-face. When it isn't a high school poetry recital, Lustre often feels like a disappearing act-- an attempt to put on a few musical disguises to see if anyone likes them better than the musician beneath. On "When the Lost Don't Want to Be Found", a slowed-down, lugubrious Tears for Fears nod with faraway, tinkling piano, Harcourt deepens his voice so much that he sounds unrecognizable and exaggerates his enunciation. This style of song may be new for Harcourt, but it comes over as little more than dull new wave. The trouble with experimenting in different genres is that it can take a lot of study and practice before you're able to say something new.
The stylistic choices Harcourt makes with his flexible voice-- from a feathery vibrato to a harder delivery-- can be effective at building emotion, as on "Haywired". But too often he lapses into tired ideas, like the backing "sha-la-la-la"s and "ooh-wee-ooh"s of "A Secret Society". That song is actually a rare instance of zest with a skipping melody that's more radio-friendly post-punk than folk, and he stays in the same vein for the cutesy "Do As I Say Not As I Do" and "Church of No Religion". But again, thin narratives drown both out, and the dingy, gray atmosphere of "Religion" could be early Bono without the inspiration or the Edge's guitar.
So who is Ed Harcourt? He's been known to brandish a lot of instruments in his live performances, but on Lustre he's showing off with genre, moving from the old-timey, bouncy piano numbers of his previous work to soaring new wave and peppy, guitar-driven pop. I suspect that a little more mystery-- more of the introspective, expressive songs that pepper each of his albums-- could transform his recent work from occasionally interesting to truly moving.
