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James Morrison Is No Longer “Undiscovered”
He’s had two top 10 hits in the UK, and he’s up for three Brit awards, but can James Morrison survive the journey across the Atlantic? My answer is an unequivocal yes. A thunderous live performer accompanied by his guitar and a keyboardist, Morrison made a huge impression on the NYC crowd that packed into Piano’s bar last night. You may have heard “You Give Me Something” or “Wonderful World,” but those radio singles only hint at the depth of this 22-year-old singer-songwriter’s raw talent. Close your eyes and you’re blessed with adead ringer for late ’60s/early ’70s Stevie Wonder–with a trace of Tracy Chapman‘s candor. Open your eyes and you see a more baby-faced Chris Martin, wriggling boyishly inside of an opened shirt and tight jeans.
I was mentioning to my colleagues last night that Morrison may actually do a reverse crossover if he’s promoted to R&B radio; like Robin Thicke or Simply Red and Teena Marie before him, he’s a white person who sounds black. He can do the runs and melismas alongside any R&B singer I could list right now. On record, he comes off a bit singer-songwritery – lighter and more earnest. On stage, his songs are more like bluesy caterwauls, and he sings them with the full intestinal force that vibrates the entire room. When he bellowed out “You Give Me Something” last night, the only other sound in the room was the whoosh of one hundred panties dropping in unison. Morrison’s the kind of talent that makes an impact immediately, and you are certain to hear his name in the coming months. You may even get up close and personal with him right here in Anglophenia. One thing: just don’t call him Jim.
His debut album, Undiscovered, hits American stores on March 13th. Check out his new U.S. website.
Hey, I respect his decision. Why exist in the ghetto when you can have the whole world? But that “he is single, though” addendum is quite funny. It both keeps the press off the smell of any male or female partner and leaves the door open for fans of both genders to fantasize about being Mika’s one-and-only. But c’mon…the red pants?
In other news: