(ANTI-; 2024)
If you are in The tender Steve sings If you’re expecting to hear the title star’s voice, you’ll be disappointed. Fans of the guitarist, however, know that the title of his new album is a cheeky joke, half a wink toward the audience and half an ode to his lyrical guitar playing. The delicate Steve (aka Steve Marion) has made a name for himself by establishing his playing as a voice in its own right, a recognizable style and tone that is as identifiable as any other singer. His list of collaborators is extensive and varied, ranging from Miley Cyrus to Paul Simon to Amen Dunes to the Black Keys
To The tender Steve singsMarion’s voice, however, is the vocal equivalent of a beige carpet or motel room curtains. He plays softly and lovingly, as if he wanted to upset as few people as possible, or just play background music for someone else. The end result is that the album feels like a collection of soothing, easy-to-listen department store instrumentals that you might catch briefly while shopping but are hard-pressed to form an emotional connection to. Sure, the dusty twang of “Easy For You” is pleasant, backed by a wordless female vocal and syrupy strings, but it doesn’t convey any strong feelings. Likewise, “Wind Won’t Blow” is lovely, with a slightly spacey pedal effect lurking in the background behind the forgettable central melody. There’s nothing bad here, but there’s so little that anyone would insist on listening to the album on repeat.
There are some better moments: “I’ll Be There” has a thorny edge, a gently captivating posturing and a much-needed sense of genuine drama amidst every note; and opening track “Cherry” feels like a lost melody that’s been floating in your head for years, somehow swirling wonderfully as strings wrap it in a pillowy gauze. Every now and then, in the sparse backgrounds, you hear a feature that draws focus more than Marion’s guitar, like the ghostly disembodied voice in “Baby” or the warming strings in “These Arms of Mine,” but that there’s anything to draw attention away from the titular star is worrying. Ultimately, it’s a testament to the lack of hooks Marion lays down. A graceful guitar tone only goes so far, and soon leaves the listener searching for something – anything – otherwise in these sparse arrangements.
Perhaps most puzzling is the inclusion of Marion’s interpretations of a number of classic tracks. Their inclusion speaks to the record’s inspiration (Willie Nelson’s iconic cover album Stardust), but the interpretations here are often painfully dull. The Emersons’ “Baby” is a smoky mood-setter at best, but is in danger of being blown away by the lightest breeze, while the aforementioned “These Arms of Mine” steals the soul from the Otis Redding song and is little more than a modest and just-faithful interpretation that makes you want to just go back to the original instead. The worst offender is Marion’s take on the Beatles’ “Yesterday,” which is sonically just a few degrees away from being different from an interpretation you’d get if you pressed the “Demo” button on a Casio keyboard. Like much of the content on The tender Steve singsit adds so little to the musical canon and to Marion’s own catalogue. He may sing, but it’s almost disturbing how little he has to say.
