Esther Phillips
From A Whisper To A Scream

November isn't exactly a great month: it starts with All Saints' Day and the subtraction of an hour of sunlight. A one-two punch, stomach-chin, that greets you while, with a trace of bile and an incisor in hand, you try to mumble "damn it, I wasn't ready yet!". Sure, there are the magical autumn colors and whatnot, but only when the gloomy days with clouds pregnant with rain give a little respite, in between one weather system and another. The air goes from cool to cold and maybe it's the drop in temperatures, the distance from the end-of-year holidays, the fact that tourist spots empty completely before the arrival of illuminations with their boisterous load of false hopes. I believe it's the combination of all these things that make people more irritable, moody, and nasty. November then, and I'll end it here, is the month where often girlfriends/lovers/wives almost always have a headache.

What genre does Esther Phillips sing? I'd say soul, but certainly not only that. So, dear de-users, do you know the sound of butter sizzling in a pan? I find myself like The Dude from "The Big Lebowski" lying on the carpet, in ecstasy, as I let myself be lulled by these soft, warm, and accommodating melodies like a blanket on a cold and gloomy day. The negativity, the stress accumulated during heavy office days slide away in the reverse way they enter my ears "From A Whisper To A Scream". The unhurried rhythms, the balanced arrangements never too heavy frame the black, juicy, passionate voice of Esther Phillips. I listen to the extraordinarily delicate, at least in the initial part, "Baby, I'm For Real" and it seems like she's making love. It becomes natural to want to close your eyes and feel good, a couple of galaxies away from those assholes who constantly break your balls at work, home. Everywhere. The songs that follow each other take the shape of a nice pair of curves on which you'd like to sleep after going all in all night. If you want to try to win over a girl, precisely that one you've been trailing for some time without big results, take her home and play this CD on the stereo. If that frigid, haughty ice cube doesn't melt like chocolate in a bain-marie, get her out of your head because you'll never get anywhere, even if you could live to one hundred and fifty years.

The album has peaks like the title track that gives the name to the album, characterized by a classy crescendo with brass, guitars, and a lively rhythm section for a powerful and melodic piece of rare impact. My favorite "To Lay Down, Beside You" is a jolt between the shoulder blades lasting four minutes thanks to a minimal arrangement that highlights the artist's voice: every time I listen to it I feel like a piece of hot clay ready to be molded, helpless like a castaway lost among the waves of the sea. It's not my intention to continue further in the description: suffice it to say that the thirteen homogeneous tracks of the album, never repetitive, ensure the work as a whole remains at a very high level, immune to repeated listens. It bears witness to the fact that it has been in continuous rotation on my stereo for over four months. I hope this writing might push you to make the acquaintance in the near future of a random album by Esther Phillips.