Album Review: Julianne Hough - Julianne Hough

In one way, Julianne Hough could be considered the first member of a new generation of country singers. Scholars and fans alike have noted the evolution of the country genre from the music of the rural lower class to the soundtrack of suburbs. This demographic shift, and the coincident thematic divergence of radio singles, have brought great growing pains as traditionalists struggle to adjust to the new radio environment and rock-pop carpetbaggers attempt to prove their country credentials whilst recording unimaginative and literal songs to communicate the truths that their vocal performances cannot. Julianne Hough may be the first new artist who identifies with the contemporary radio environment by instinct rather than commercial necessity, and as a result, Hough can make much better music than many of her contemporaries.

There’s no doubting Hough’s sincerity when she sings the happy themes of country suburbia: after all, a nineteen year old who’s among the best dancers in the world, the former star of a network television program, one of Maxim’s 100 Most Beautiful Women and the owner of a brand new major recording contract ought to be singing “My Hallelujah Song.” Most importantly, the young Julianne is among the first major label artists to have truly grown up with “contemporary country,” thus making it easy for her to fit into David Malloy’s strong production, which incorporates a respectable amount of acoustic and traditional instrumentation into a slick studio gloss that makes Hough’s sound remarkably radio-ready. Indeed, the album’s only significant production missteps are the inclusion of Derek Hough, not nearly the singer that his sister is, on the already weak “Dreaming Under the Same Moon” and the annoying, distorted guitars and electric organ of the otherwise playful “Hello.”

Due to Hough’s established comfort with the theme and sound of her music, she’s free to experiment with a collection of songs that’s a cut above typical new artist fare. There’s an artsty sophistication to some of the songs that she has chosen, and most of the songwriting is strong even if it seems overly deferential to Hough’s rosy worldview.

While song selection is a great strength of Julianne Hough, it’s also the album’s greatest weakness, and Hough stumbles as she attempts to confine some nuanced lyrics within narrow interpretive boxes. Hough sings with a certain amount of naivete, and as a result, “Hide Your Matches” sounds more like a love ballad than the dire warning that it is, while in “Help Me Help You,” Hough reduces alcoholism to an opportunity to help out a neighbor and sings as though “I get home from work and turn the TV on the telephone’s a ringing / her little girl is cryin’ says I can’t wake momma up from sleeping” is just another day in the good life.

This interpretive intransigence seems born less out of ignorance than the blissful belief that everything turns out alright if only you smile through it, and Hough chooses songs that validate this fantasy. Even as Hough’s voice builds to a crescendo on “Jimmy Ray McGee,” the most satisfying vocal performance on the album, one can’t help but feel cheated when the writers (David Fraiser and Josh Kear) reveal of her lecherous high school flame that “Jimmy Ray McGee asked me to the senior prom / But I went on another boy’s arm / Heard he made someone else a mom” only to conclude that “I guess in the end it’s worth all the worry though it hurts to leave.” In “About Life” (Jessica Andrew, Marcel Rosen, Trevor Rosen), while “I’ve been down on my knees beggin’ the lord / the devil’s been knocking at my door” everything is okay because “I’ve been in the dark but I’ve always found the light” and thus the fact that “I still haven’t figured out a damn thing about life” is cause for celebration.

Opportunities abound for a new artist who fits so naturally within the current radio format, but in the end, Hough’s easy assumption of a sunny demeanor closes as many doors as it opens.