Label: Elektra Sound/Style: Subdued folk-pop with topical and probing lyrics
By Steve Morley
Since her widely acclaimed 1988 debut, Tracy Chapman has been almost unanimously embraced as a sensitive and socially conscious artist of substance. Her first album catapulted her to a level of visibility that was nearly overwhelming for Chapman, an extremely private person whose introverted nature is consistent with her low-key performing style. In the past, Chapman has been openly passionate and plainspoken about matters both social and personal on hit songs like “Talkin’ Bout a Revolution” and “Give Me One Reason.” More often, though, she delivers her songs in a detached fashion that can seem at odds with the serious subject matter at the heart of her work. Unlike the topical music of the ’60s and early ’70s, which cried out stridently for change, Chapman looks squarely at complex social ills and expresses her opinions without indulging in emotionalism or dogma. Her eighth album, Our Bright Future, looks at both internal and external landscapes with a hard-edged realism that often contradicts its optimistic-sounding title.
As often as not, its 11 selections look backward at broken relationships and unfulfilled promises. She offers a gloomy forecast on the title track, an anti-war song that laments the loss of not only innocent lives but the promise of positive change they may have held. (“Led on, Led on/ To take the path/ Where our bright future/ Is in our past.”)
On “Thinking of You,” a toe-tapping, tic-tac rhythm provides an oddly upbeat soundtrack for the intellectual obsessions of a lovelorn character that Chapman paints with a dash of dark humor. (“I used to think/ Galileo would agree/ That the world was round/ And you’d come ’round to me/ But I have looked for you/ And you’re nowhere in sight/ The world must be flat/ The Babylonians were right.”)
The track is thematically related to the country-tinged cut, “A Theory,” which demonstrates how the intellect can protect the heart from harm. (It’s just a theory/ A series of tests should be run/ It’s just a theory/ Although not fully assessed/ An idea whose time has come/ That you were meant for me/ And for you I’m the one.”)
The protagonist in “For a Dream” tries to overcome dysfunctional family dynamics and move forward while still troubled by personal disillusionment and nagging doubts about the reality of salvation. (“For Christmas and for New Year/ I wish and I resolve/ But I’m disappointed/ In myself, Jesus and Santa Claus/ I want to believe/ She’s been saved/ And he’s been redeemed/ And it’s alright, it’s alright/ For a dream.”)
Chapman delves further into religion on “Save Us All,” which addresses the paradox behind the exclusive claims made by each of the major religions. (“Buddha, Allah, Krishna/ Manifest with many faces/ Worshipped the world over in foreign places/ I assume your God must love you/ I know Jesus loves me… “) Chapman, who presents the song through the perspective of a Christian believer, concludes it with the suggestion that pride is perhaps the culprit behind all theological disagreements. (“But if pride goeth before the fall/ I hope someone’s God will save us all.”)
On “Spring,” emerging signs of new life are dimmed by a sober minor key and Chapman’s musings on the long, often-tentative transition out of winter. The lyric also symbolizes the painfully slow process of having one’s hope restored, a theme that sums up the album’s guarded wishes for better days. While it sounds downcast and emotionally distant at times, the disc is warmed by its tasteful acoustic textures and is deserving of credit for its unusually clear-eyed look at overcoming serious obstacles. The ray of light that glows, however softly, behind Our Bright Future is the suggestion that change is possible even during the darkest of days.