When you become a star before you hit the age of 18, there're really only two choices where your life can go. On one hand, you can let the fame go to your head and do everything in your power to try to maintain it, including but not limited to constant clubbing, trips to rehab, arrests, and other moves signaling your downfall as well as attempts to gobble up headlines. On the other hand, you can decide not to let the fame define you, still doing what you love without having to be the paparazzi darling that you once were. There are not as many people who choose this path, considering the amount of yes men and readily available substances, but when you find someone who made it through the storm, it's that much more impressive.
Mandy Moore was never a huge star but she's been in the public eye since her early teens. After being a 4th tier teen pop star, she's managed to transform into a low key singer-songwriter, marrying Ryan Adams and not going the way of her peers. We don't know what Moore is like in her private life or what traumatic events she's been through, but that's the point. I Could Break Your Heart Any Day of the Week attempts to be a spunky kiss-off but it only partially succeeds. Hearing something upbeat on a mostly ballad-y album will always make it stand out; sadly, the production makes this stand out for the wrong reasons. It sounds like it's trying to be "authentically 70s", but to me, it's just an echo-y, hollow mess. Moore does the best that she can, showcasing the likable personality that has been one of her main selling points, but she simply can't save this song. I mean, you can barely hear her over the cacophonous background vocals. So disappointing. Everblue just plods along for 4 minutes. It's not an inherently bad song; it's just a sonic blackhole. You keep expecting something to happen, anything, and nothing ever does. Moore sounds perfectly fine and I suppose the melody isn't bad, but it just leaves me feeling very meh. It exhibits one of the main problems I had with the record. You won't remember a thing about it for the first several listens. And I do mean several. I don't need there to be huge, #1 single-ish hooks for an entire album, but I'd like to be able to have a song to hum or a line to reflect on after I get done listening. On Amanda Leigh, especially this song, songs like that are in short supply. Love to Love Me Back sees Moore dip her toe into country music to surprisingly good results. With a delicate, romantic vocal that exudes the type of dreamy innocence that she does so well, this is extremely charming. Self-aware and thoughtfully written, it's a nice bit of evolution for Moore, but it doesn't get to have the type of impact that it could have had due to the loud production making its triumphant return. Mandy has a thinner voice, so piling layers of guitars and vocals on it isn't going to make it stand out. If it had been less smothering, this would be a summery little ditty but alas, it's merely hard to listen to.
Bug needed to be fleshed out a little more, as it falls exactly in line with the aesthetic that Moore is most at home on. The production is finally dialed down a few notches and she gets some room to breathe, which makes the song have a little more impact that most of the rest of the record. With feathery acoustics and not much else, you feel the desperation coming from Moore; she may not be able to blow you out of the water with power, but she's pretty adept at getting inside a song and really digging to find the emotion in it. At only 2:13, it's an appetizer of what she can do with good people behind her and a clear, concise idea. Nothing Everything is such a strange song. Where most of the record fits neatly in the folk-pop genre, this features definite shifts that take a few listens to fully digest. I appreciate the fact that it's an unorthodox, somewhat messy track on a fairly mannered record, but it doesn't follow up the rocking of the boat with any quality water, I guess you could say. It has all the elements of a strong, album changing song; everything just doesn't gel and the song ends up going nowhere. I'm fine with it being on the record, though, because it keeps things from being completely stale and hints at there being a pulse to Moore's artistry. Merrimack River actually works really well and seems to be the best example of Moore taking her fairly strong ability with melody and making an artsy-fartsy (well, for her) song. Resembling a waltz in structure, it's an extremely dainty song that takes some of Moore's best vocal habits and exploits them. She's not a very gritty singer nor is she a belter, so this song allows her flirty, pure voice to shine with its spotless arrangement. If Moore is going to keep tinkering with her style, she wouldn't be wrong to take it toward a song like this.
I wanted to love Amanda Leigh. I listened and listened and it just never came to me. I respect Mandy for doing what she loves and not conforming to what other people expect of her, so the musical change she's went through isn't the problem. This specific album, however, is boring and borders on pretentious. Moore is still charming and her vocal decisions are more often right than wrong, but lyrically it's a little off-putting and there are not enough catchy melodies to really keep you in the game. What should have been a quirky, articulate singer-songwriter album is instead murky MOR doused in tryptophan. There are a couple of moments that stand out, but it's not enough for the album to warrant multiple listens. Amanda Leigh may be another mature feather in Moore's hipster cap, but Shilo Dwayne sadly cannot endorse it.
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