Izzi Dunn | Cries & Smiles

Album review: Izzi Dunn | Cries and Smiles
By Brent Faulkner


A relatively unknown British songstress (at least in the U.S), Izzi
Dunn, also a multi-instrumentalist, delivers a solid sophomore album,
entitled Cries and Smiles. Dunn’s first effort, The Big Picture, bowed a
staggering seven years back from the September release date of ‘Cries’,
making Cries and Smiles both an introduction and reintroduction of the
singer. Dunn proves to be an impressive vocalist, channeling the
finesse of jazz and the sheer emotion of soul ‘all-in-one.’ It is nice
to see the British soul movement gaining more momentum as of late, given
hiatuses from its most prominent artists. Dunn outdoes herself o’er
and o’er again throughout this effort, making this brief ten song set
well conceived.

The album opens a bit ‘off-putting’ – well shocking – with the brash opener, “T and A” On her website (
http://www.izzidunn.com/),
Dunn describes the overt opener as ‘[showing] the contradictions of sex
in our so-called modern and progressive society.’ Indeed, it is a
wake-up call to the more ‘conservative’ audience that this style of soul
would naturally appeal to. All ‘moral’ judgements aside, it is a well
put together cut; Dunn’s vocals have a nice alternative-jazz/soul
timbre about them. “Nothing But Love” is another solid cut, and better
in the sense that Dunn ‘reigns herself in’ opting for a more traditional
sound and songwriting here. While “Nothing But Love” may stifle the
liberal creativity of its predecessor, Dunn seems to know how much she
can get away with without alienating her fans. The songwriting is
superb, particularly the chorus: “When it comes to love/ There ain’t a
thing I would not do, to prove to you…/When it comes to love/I lay
myself out on the line, every time…”

“Loser” features rapper Booty Brown in a well rounded collaborative
effort. Dunn’s quick-paced vocals are always enjoyable and desirable
while Brown’s rhymes complement Dunn’s performance well. The cut is not
the best of this effort, but it is above average, even if it proves to
be a bit lengthy. “Kill Me Slow” is an even better showing, featuring
some of the album’s best production work, which includes acoustic piano,
acoustic bass, and an smart dabble of vibes to give this track a jazz
feel. Did I fail to mention the big, hip-hop soul drums? “Analogue
Girl” continues a strong showing, given that the songwriting is more
‘multidimensional’ as opposed to simply ‘one dimensional.’ The
production is grand (hip-hop soul drums, electric piano, horns, etc.)
and Dunn sounds simply amazing – exquisite if you will. The best lyric
comes during the beginning of the second verse: “like to think I’m
retro-sexual..” Despite her occasional risqué moments, Dunn continues to
‘control herself.’

“Save Me” keeps the quality high, finding Dunn asking the question
“would you be the one to save me.” She sounds particularly effective on
the second verse, where her nuanced vocals steal the show – even if it
is her ‘own show!’ “Gangster B” is a ludicrously titled
instrumental cut that seems somewhat out of place. That said, it is an
enjoyable listen that finds Dunn indulge the slightest bit too much,
even if the cut only clocks in at 4:19. In her defense, the groove is
addictive and the arrangement smart and extremely musical, showing the
craftsmanship of a great musician. The question then remains, why such a
brash title for an instrumental cut? I suppose the best response is ‘To
each his own.’

Essentially, Cries and Smiles is a solid effort that might be even
better with even more ‘focus.’ The material is top-rate (even at its
most overt) and Dunn certainly has the talent to be a star. While there
is nothing ‘commercial’ here for a youthful R&B audience so ‘hungry’
for gimmicks and hip-hop crossover, Dunn should have no problem
enjoying a dedicated, if compact fan base given the prodigious vocal and
musical talents she exhibits on this well-crafted sophomore effort.
Personally, she is most potent and ‘affective’ when she lets her classy
side rule. A solid effort, by all means.

Brent Faulkner

The Urban Music Scene