Lisa Palleschi - Released Review
Posted by Marques Furumoto on 01.18.2007
A solid freshman effort from the Long Island songstress
Although Lisa Palleschi has drawn comparisons to singer/songwriter Sheryl Crow, Palleschi’s somewhat theatrical delivery is more akin to that of pop diva Celine Dion. Palleschi has the ability to sweep through her hooks with gusto, and she possesses a humble, unassuming beauty that will no doubt have an inviting effect on potential listeners. Palleschi has the talent of a star and the looks to match, so it seems logical to anticipate that Released will be the first of many chapters to come.
Overall, Palleschi’s Released is a very pleasant album, but probably not anything that you haven’t heard a hundred times before. While there’s a welcome hint of spite on a couple of songs – “I wanna make you hurt…I wanna see some tears,” she insists on “I Wanna See You Cry” – Palleschi’s fleeting mean streak is handily offset by the rest of the album’s mostly docile songs. Lisa Palleschi is certainly an able vocalist, but the opening track to Released is doomed to be lost in a preexisting sea of similar pop songs. “I see that you’re confused. Stop walking in my shoes. I’m not a pretender. Just take it as a sign when all the stars align. I’ll be there forever… I’m a little bit real, I’m a little bit fantasy. This is me” (“This Is Me”). Generally speaking, it’s usually bad news when songwriters find it necessary to pen songs devoted strictly to boasting their alleged distinctiveness, and Palleschi’s “This Is Me” is no exception. The “I am who I am” song has more or less become a staple in all current day pop singers' records, and the intended message has understandably lost some of its luster when you consider that every pop artist out there is preaching about his/her supposed uniqueness. Palleschi, in spite of her talents, does not manage to escape this trap.
That being said, Released is indeed filled to the brim with familiar tunes. Song about starting over/new beginnings? Check. The “I’m genuine”/keeping it real song? Check. Recurring flying imagery? Check. It’s not that the record isn’t musically sound – it definitely is – it’s just that Released is also a very safe effort, which can make for a somewhat forgettable listening experience. In Palleschi’s defense, playing it safe is perhaps understandable considering that this is her debut full-length, but you can't help but feel that the set is a little pedestrian anyway. It’s tough to find serious flaw in most of the tracks since the production here tends to sway towards the proven and effective, but unfortunately, none of the songs are exceptionally striking for this same reason.
Palleschi’s cover of the Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” is probably the record’s best track, and while the oft-covered classic doesn’t exactly lend itself to slip ups, Palleschi does an admirable job keeping things simple and not trying to do too much with the source material. The cover isn’t perfect – that snare drum is more than a little jarring – but Palleschi’s earnestness is quite resounding as she dips into the chorus. You get the feeling that she loves the song just as much as Robert Smith does, and that bodes well for the budding artist. Palleschi’s quaint “Once Upon A Time” is vaguely reminiscent to Jewel’s early work, and “Learning How to Love Again,” while familiar in concept, has a warm quality to it that provides for some easy listening.
1) This Is Me
2) I Wanna See You Cry
3) True
4) Happily Ever After
5) Lightyears Away
6) I Promise
7) A New Beginning
8) Just Like Heaven
9) Learning How to Love Again
10) Already Gone
11) Once Upon a Time
12) Released
The 411: Released exudes a definite sense of warmth, and if that’s what Lisa Palleschi was shooting for, she did rather well. To her credit, her debut album is consistent, albeit unspectacular throughout, and there will certainly always be an audience for Palleschi’s brand of modest adult-pop. Overall though, Released lacks imagination, and you can’t help but feel that Palleschi’s best days as an artist are still ahead of her.
