Tacos are salvation, and I mean that spiritually as well as anecdotally. While I’m certain you can find nirvana somewhere between the cilantro and the sriracha, sometimes you just need a buffer between your soul and, well, this:
…singer-songwriter/Daria-prototype Ronney Abramson’s third and final R&B/pop/rock album, Jukebox of Paris.
The album starts with the promising “Trouble”, a raucous R&B track with a strong, punchy bass line. Then the album dips down into slower rhythms and never picks back up. Slow rhythms in R&B are sexy, and the rhythm section here does its job. It’s the songs themselves which hold the album back.
At first listen I had to wonder if Abramson just couldn’t sing; she holds back on what should be emphatic notes as if nervous that she might actually be heard… on her own record. But the woman can sing. The frailty in her voice best serves the blandness of the songs; a more fierce vocal performance would have made melodrama out of otherwise light lyrics. The album is sweet even when it’s sorrowful, even though it wants to be passionate.
The R&B genre has long served as the musical mood for nights of passion with your significant other. Jukebox might better set the mood for a night of cuddling on the couch with an accent pillow and Daria reruns.