tremble clef

Friday, December 30, 2005

Mari Wilson, "The Love Thing" (2005)

"So lift me up, let me spin/I know it's not really the done thing/I'm ready to dance, I'm ready to sing/But I'm not sure I'm ready for the love thing."

Oh, Mari. Of course you (and your "brand new pair of Jimmy Choos") are not ready for a serious relationship -- you tell us this by your inability to call it anything more specific than that "love thing." And even though the music is sassy and full of swooning strings, like something Swing Out Sister might have done in their prime, inviting us to fall into it, we back off and respect you when you tell us: "Take me out, take me home/But baby take a hike when I want to be alone." On your terms, baby, on your terms.

After all, Mari, you've been away too long. We loved you in the 80s when you had your deliberately anachronistic beehive hairdo and your girlgroup aesthetic. And now you're back with your first new album in yonks, even if it's a mostly smooth-jazz affair that won't make too many other people sit up and take notice. On your terms, baby, on your terms.


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