You have to admire Amy Macdonald. She is having to swat off lazy comparisons to Katie *yawns* Melua before she’s even had a chance to show what she’s got. You have to admire that she quite happily and unashamedly talks of her influences in between songs (those doyens of innovation, Travis, The Killers).
The 19-year-old certainly adds another dimension to the singer-songwriter rubix. The market is screaming for an equal opposite to Messrs Blunt, Morrison and Nutini. But really, do we need that? We’ve got a bit of a hybrid instead.
The twee Glaswegian accent brings to mind Dolores O’Riordan, whilst the full on band reveals the indie girl at heart. It works reasonably well. Her first single Poison Prince rattles across the rammed floor leaving plenty a head a bobbing. Mr Rock N Roll begins like something as soppy the Goo Goo Dolls would come up with, but turns out to be a real anthem that’ll no doubt have the festival crowds lapping it up. Run has a Snow Patrol feel to it, with big angsty choruses.
Perhaps the biggest problem for Macdonald are the waters she is about to set foot in. Girl with a guitar automatically gets slapped with the singer-songwriter tag and put on the pedestal next to the bestsellers out there. She is no Melua for sure (and thank God). She does err slightly more on the side of a Tunstall, and she isn’t in the league of the big hitters we’ve had the fortune of seeing recently (Peyroux, Feist, Hersh).
I guess the thing to admire most is that although Macdonald isn’t in the class of the above, she’s going about it the right way, doing what she wants to do. Not pretending who she is, not trying to fake a sound and not trying to spout off the cool influences like a job interview.
We all have a place. Those that identify their’s early find they have a head start. Maybe even a grounding to something more than they believed they could ever achieve or dream about.