[review 2007: favourites]

I can give you a list of reasons why I shouldn’t like Neptune City. First: it’s a Columbia release. Columbia is not only a major label subsidiary, but it’s also owned by Sony BMG. That would be the same Sony BMG that tried to install rootkits on your computer and then told you not to worry, you probably didn’t know what a rootkit was anyways. In other words, when I bought Neptune City from Ms. Atkins when she opened for the Pipettes in October, I unwittingly gave money to the worst record label of all the majors. Second: Nicole Atkins has her own American Express commercial wherein she lounges on a comfy hotel bed in her bathrobe and offers to fly friends out to her show. Girl’s got cash to burn, I guess. And finally, there’s the matter of Neptune City itself. Atkins managed to score a whole orchestra for the recording sessions (which may explain why this isn’t a Nicole Atkins & the Sea release, though her backing band does play on the album as well), and the result is an album that’s perhaps overfull with instruments and produced to within an inch of its life. Not that I could, but if I had to change one thing for Atkins’ next release, it’d be to tone things down a bit—she really doesn’t need all the horns and choirs and strings jockeying for attention.

Okay. Now that that’s all out of the way, let me tell you why none of that should matter to you. First, it turns out Atkins told the American Express people that the hotel thing was completely unrealistic. “I was like, ‘We usually stay at the Econolodge,’” she said. “‘Uh, that doesn’t look too good on tv.’ Ok, whatever.” Since she was, in fact, living at home with her mother at the time she shot the ad (a condition I will always remember as the Fiona Apple condition thanks to a New York Times article about Extraordinary Machine), she gets a pass on the bathrobe lounging.

And what about Neptune City? The production distracts, for sure, but when Rick Rubin came in at the last moment to remaster the album, he knew what to focus on: Nicole Atkins’ majestic voice. Her live show is a great showcase for that voice; listen to her sing “The Way It Is” live and you’ll be shaken to the core. Imagine, say, Neko Case back when she was more fun and didn’t write such oblique songs about car crashes, and you’re starting to see the appeal of Nicole Atkins. Other people (and Columbia’s PR people, natch) have compared her to the likes of Loretta Lynn and Roy Orbison. Those are pretty hefty names to be associated with so early in your career, but when you watch her win over entire audiences, it starts to make some sense. I saw a woman in the audience cry when Atkins sang “War Torn.” I’m convinced, and if you catch a concert you probably will be too.

Neptune City is pretty evenly split between faster rock songs and out-and-out torch material, and she’s versatile enough to score points with both. On the rock side of the ledger: “Maybe Tonight” is quite possibly the best album opener I’ve heard all year; it has a heady sense of anticipation to it, and despite having played the album something like twenty times over the past month it’s just as invigorating as the first time I heard it. “Love Surreal” is the spunkiest track of the lot, with a skittering beat inviting you to try a couple of dancefloor moves. And then there’s “Brooklyn’s On Fire!,” which sounds to me like Atkins trying to capture some of that Arcade Fire-esque communal euphoria feel and doing a better job than anything off Neon Bible.

The torchier songs that focus the most on Atkins’ vocal performance, to great effect. I’ve already mentioned “The Way It Is,” which was a pretty good choice for first single, and “War Torn,” which finds just the right level of heartfelt passion to keep the song’s central metaphor from dipping too far into melodramatics. But my favourite track on the album—at least, one of my favourites, because I seem to have so many of them—is the title track, an ode to Atkins’ hometown of New Jersey that perfectly captures the melancholic nature of nostalgia: fondness tempered with an acute sense of loss. Really, it’s a song that works for anyone who’s ever left home for greener pastures.

There isn’t a weak song to be found on Neptune City, and by the time you get to “Party’s Over” and its irresistible chorus, you’ll wish it wasn’t (even if, in the song, she does). Luckily, with Atkins playing shows left, right and center next year to support Neptune City’s recent release (she’s planning to go back on the road with the Sea early in the new year), it looks like there’ll be plenty of parties to attend in the future.