The Harmlessness Of Shelby Lynne

I haven’t paid much attention to Shelby Lynne in years, since her 2001 “disaster,” the Glen Ballard produced Love, Shelby. I think I might have listened to Identity Crisis, her 2003 release on Capitol a couple of times and then forgot all about it. I had been a fan of I Am Shelby Lynne, her 1999 album that won her a Best New Artist Grammy, despite the fact that she had been signed by Epic Nashville in the late 80’s. (Another example of the stupidity of the Grammys.) I Am… reminded me of a modern Dusty Springfield record in its combination of both earthy and dramatic tones that occurred on occasion as diva-worthy.

So when I heard via the New York Times that Shelby Lynne’s new album, Just A Little Lovin’, is a collection of songs inspired and made famous by Dusty Springfield, I became momentarily excited. But unfortunately, while the album is eminently tasteful, it is a thorough bore. Lynne’s (and producer Phil Ramone’s) arrangements are striking only in their lack of risk and originality; the drama, risk and vulnerability that Springfield sang with is instead replaced by an overwhelming sterility, a celebration of “good taste” that does not even approach the realm of soulfulness. It is utterly harmless music.

Lynne fancies herself a rebel who bucked the conventions of Nashville and has a deluded sense that it makes her a superior artist. What it makes her instead is a snob who uses her commercial failures to justify her utterly false notions of what it is to be a rebel. Perhaps this album will be the commercial breakthrough that she has been looking for for the better part of two decades – but most likely, it will be another chapter of a career in which the artist comforts her own missteps by saying to herself, “They don’t get it,” instead of asking, “What’s missing in my music that could make a difference?”

If you don't have Dusty In Memphis, buy it immediately. But Just A Little Lovin' is one of the most unnecessary albums I've heard in years.