Back to Bacharach

I think I have Euro-envy. If Michael Ball, a British musical theater performer with a rich but earnestly straight-up delivery, were American I'd say he was dangerously close to Michael Bolton territory. Maybe it's his very sincerity, his complete lack of self-consciousness as he wallows in lush pop nostalgia and melodrama, that put me off-kilter enough to admit that I enjoyed listening to this easy listening, even though I'm not sure how ironic the pleasure was. Maybe it's that he's in "guilty pleasure" territory by default in covering songs written by Burt Bacharach. Bacharach, after all, synthesized the best and the worst of the seventies in the songs he wrote for the likes of Neil Diamond and Dionne Warwick: beautifully composed (if occasionally overwrought) and unrepentantly sentimental (remember the schmaltzy duet "That's What Friends Are For"?) pop nuggets that have become AM radio staples. Ball's voice has a velvety quality, and knack for plaintive crooning in his upper range, that suit the material. And he handles the songs with grace, emphasizing the emotion without quite overselling it. Backed by a full orchestra, the disc has a full, lush vibe that's pleasant if not earth shattering. This isn't a must-have album, but it's a viable, mellow alternative to standard music for holiday parties.