Tracy Chapman`s sturdy, stolid and thoroughly unremarkable third album,
”Matters of the Heart” (Elektra), which arrives in stores on Tuesday, makes even more apparent the achievement of her breakthrough song, ”Fast Car.”
Released on her self-titled 1988 debut, ”Fast Car” was the sound of Bruce Springsteen`s `70s classic of desperate optimism, ”Born to Run,”
colliding with the brick wall of Reaganomics.
It begins by echoing ”Born to Run”-”You got a fast car/I want a ticket to anywhere”-and then briefly lifts off when Chapman stretches the word ”I” into a three-syllable hook: ”And I-ye-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone. . . .”
The singer ends up ”in a market as a checkout girl,” and shoos away her shiftless lover: ”So take your fast car and keep on driving.”
It was a pop hit because it made the plight of the checkout girl ever-ybody`s story-and in a way it was, because by the summer of 1988, the toll from the ”greed is good” decade had become too obvious to ignore.
Ever since, Chapman has been spinning slight variations on essentially the same story, and the lyrical directness and sonic starkness that once made ”Fast Car” such a revelation have been turned into cliches on ”Matters of the Heart.”
The trajectory of the checkout girl`s life has become the story of Chapman`s art, as well: An optimistic start, which included a remarkable 15 million record sales worldwide, reduced to the blandness of routine.
Indications that ”Fast Car” was a fluke were already apparent on Chapman`s 1989 album, ”Crossroads.” Although it scored points for addressing tried-and-true protest-singer topics such as racism and homelessness with new directness, it sounded too much like ”Tracy Chapman II.”
Both those records were tastefully produced by David Kershenbaum, who is no longer on board for ”Matters of the Heart.”
In his place is Jimmy Iovine, but his big, cinematic rock sound (Simple Minds, Tom Petty) is nowhere in evidence, and his high-powered recruits might as well have not shown up. Guitarists Mike Campbell (of Petty`s Heartbreakers) and Vernon Reid (Living Colour), keyboardist Roy Bittan (Springsteen) and bassist Tony Levin (Peter Gabriel) are lost in the polite, painterly production.
”Short Supply” assumes a vague Brazilian breeziness, and a mandolin gives ”I Used to Be a Sailor” the lilt of a sea chantey, but otherwise the 10 songs are virtually indistinguishable.
Once again, Chapman`s alto voice and acoustic guitar are the primary instruments, swathed in gently percolating percussion and delicate guitars and keyboards.
It`s a neat trick: Even though as many as a dozen musicians play on some cuts, the aural focus has been narrowed to the singer.
Which would be fine, if the songs were of the quality of ”Fast Car.”
But even the best-”Bang, Bang, Bang,” ”I Used to Be a Sailor,” ”Matters of the Heart”-inspire respect rather than rapture.
The melancholy warning about gang violence that is ”Bang, Bang, Bang”
epitomizes Chapman`s approach-an admirable, politically correct sentiment sung with sobering dignity-and then briefly, tellingly goes beyond it, as if to remind the listener that she can still deliver the goods.
”If he preys only on his neighbors . . . we`ll consider it a favor . . . but if he comes for you or me . . . we`ll shoot him dead,” she sings, and turns a predictable song into a vaguely disquieting and angry one.
Too often, however, Chapman seems content to use easy targets as punching bags. The relentless grind of sexual bias and the erosion of the planet are worthy topics, but they sound like old news in ”Woman`s Work” and ”Short Supply.”
Even more maddening is the preachiness of ”So,” which skewers the yuppie generation with one generic swipe after another: ”So, you`ve got a big house/And you drive a fancy car/So what if your pockets are full/If you have an empty heart.”
”So” is more than a bad song. It`s also a cynical one, because it indicates Chapman has lost faith in the ability of her audience to think for itself.
Rating for ”Matters of the Heart”: (STAR)(STAR)
