Rob Thomas: Cradlesong
Rob Thomas does one thing well. He knows how to write a chorus. This singular gift is what has kept him in the spotlight well past his expiration date. Cradlesong is almost identical to his last album, Something to Be. It’s a collection of fourteen inoffensive pop/rock songs, nothing more nothing less. It would be easy to chide Thomas for his lack of depth, but he is a populist singer. The people who buy Rob Thomas records know what they like, and Thomas gives it to them. His music is not about artistic merit, but formula. When critiquing Cradlesong, the question is not “Is it good?” but “Does it deliver?”
Cradlesong plays to Thomas’s strengths. The album is comprised of mostly ballads, with a few rockers thrown in for variety. The music is an appealing mix of blue eyed soul and pop rock. The production is crisp, with just enough grit to give the music a slight edge. Everything is calculated for maximum dividends, and the calculation pays off.
The opening track, “Her Diamonds,” sets the formula perfectly. The song begins with a simple syncopated drum beat and Thomas’ radio-ready vocals. As he sings the first verse, more instruments come in, slowly building to the chorus. The chorus is rocking, but not abrasive. It’s agreeable.
Thomas shines on the mid-tempo numbers. His singing is much more soulful than his corporate rock ilk, and that works in his favor. He knows when to hit the high notes and when to hold back, so when he amps up the emotion, it makes in impact. He delivers the choruses passionately, which is the most important element of his music. If the audience is not able to sing the refrain, then he has failed.
The up-tempo numbers don’t come off as well. Thomas sounds confident and self-assured on the ballads, but the rockers sound awkward and forced. “Real World 09,” a sequel to Matchbox Twenty’s 1996 hit, is the worst offender. Thomas attempts to sound tough, but his voice remains affable and unthreatening. The electronic flourishes are totally out of place. It’s as if the album was due, and he needed one more song. It feels like a sketch instead of a fleshed out idea.
The album’s best moment is “Fire on the Mountain,” the token epic. Thomas delivers his most dramatic chorus to date, asking “How do you sleep when the world is burning?” Drums crash behind him as the guitars weave in and out. Instead of canned pathos, Thomas sounds emotional. The result is one of the most memorable songs he has ever written, and its proof that he is capable of more than he lets on.
The problem with Cradlesong is the problem with every other album remotely associated with Rob Thomas. It’s mostly bland, safe and forgettable. There are some decent hooks, but they tend to dissipate once the song ends. It’s the kind of album that was made to be played over the PA systems of big box department store. In that context, it’s a step up from Kenny G.
