Over time, it fails to resonate, sputtering like a skipping disc. While his voice is far and away one of the purest and most refined in recent memory, Smith never exerts himself to showcase it, staying in the same woeful wheelhouse. In the Lonely Hour is a soul album that traverses the same emotional depths as fellow UK soul crooner Daley’s Days and Nights did months ago but with far less variety of sound or subject matter. While his excursions into the mainstream exhibit his star power, he crawls inside himself on the album, reducing the impact of his timbre with forlorn uniformity. It saturates his art to the point of subduing his otherwise dazzling tone to pedestrian ranges. He longs for an impassioned connection, and that longing is evident throughout, aesthetically. (For a little perspective, there’s a song called “Life Support”.) Embrace is an appropriate word for this album Smith is constantly reaching out for someone, seeking to close the gap and provoke sensuality. In the former, he sings, “Now I got you in my space/ I won’t let go of you/ Got you shackled in my embrace/ I’m latching on to you.” In the Lonely Hour takes that sentiment to new heights. It would’ve been hard to forecast the murky depths that lied within In the Lonely Hour strictly relying on Smith’s contributions as a guest on Disclosure’s “Latch” and Naughty Boy’s “La La La” (soul records masquerading as pop/dance), but it would’ve been very easy to anticipate his affinity for togetherness. In the Lonely Hour only knows one way to spin its grand thesis. Its fatal flaw is not its singular mindset, but the monotonous execution of that mindset. It hums along at one bleak, naively hopeful tone that often loses affect.

It’s musically stark, too, compressing chord progressions and melodies into subdued acoustic guitar and piano riffs draped occasionally in strings. It spends its time trying to minimize emotional space (for solidarity’s sake, Smith dreams about getting mugged outside a lover’s house), physical space (he wants to hold hands during a one-night stand), even relational space (he pushes a beau to leave another lover). It wallows not because of isolation but because of a glaring lack of intimacy and empathy. In fact, it isn’t about loneliness at all it’s about the painful, unavoidable desire for suffocating closeness fostered by unrequited love. In the Lonely Hour, Sam Smith’s passionate major label debut, isn’t as much about loneliness as it is about distance. While he provided an emollient edge to Disclosure’s oscillating'Latch” and Naughty Boy’s playful “La La La”, the results are certainly less inspiring in his own environment.This post is in partnership with Consequence of Sound, an online music publication devoted to the ever growing and always thriving worldwide music scene. Smith’ sugary falsetto comes across a tad one dimensional and inexpressive on his solo debut In The Lonely Hour. All its missing is a superfluous key change. That is, until final track Lay Me Down begins intimately before arriving at Boys II Men territory with a kitchen sink arrangement it’s Smith channelling the moment on X Factor where the white gowned gospel choir appear out of nowhere and the screen fills up with pixelated confetti. Most of the album steers clear of cliché rather deftly, and the uncluttered production avoids any unwelcome syrupy-ness. “Leave Your Lover/Leave him for me” he knows what he wants and he’s prepared to play dirty to get it. Here, Smith goes some way to shed the translucent sheen of self-depreciating introspection that lies heavy on most of In The Lonely Hour. It’s juxtaposition with “Leave Your Lover”, a well crafted and refreshingly direct track co written by Cherry Ghost’s Simon Aldred, is effective though. The irksome “Money on My Mind” leaves a little to be desired, both as album opener and lead single, and seems slightly disingenuous too “I don’t have money on my mind/I do it for the love”. All the meaningful introspection of his debut seems a tad unconvincing as a result. It’s doesn’t possess the visceral quality required to prickles the neck hairs, and it’s never arresting enough to transport the listener. It might be the sheer prettiness of his voice that limits its appeal. It’s certainly at the glossier end of the spectrum though at times Smith’s material sounds like Maverick Sabre put through a mangle, with all the interesting stuff straightened out.

(I’m pretty sure latest single “Stay with Me” is as close to Sandé you can get without actually breaching copyright). Debut LP In The Lonely Hour sees Smith ride the tail end of the British Retro-Soul wave, and shares similarities with the likes of Emili Sandé and Adele.

Sam smith in the lonely hour single