Sara Bareilles
The Blessed Unrest

Raise your hand if you remember Sara Bareilles. Surely very few would, and I can't really blame them, considering that after the enjoyable hit "Love Song," in the old continent, this talented Californian singer-songwriter and pianist practically left no trace behind, partly due to the not-so-brilliant management by her record label, partly because the singles released were lovely but not radio-friendly enough to catch the attention of many. Things went differently in America, where she managed to gather a decent following; and now, two years after the commercial success of "Kaleidoscope Heart" (a decent album, but, like her debut "Little Voice," nothing more), Sara returns to the music scene with a new studio album, "The Blessed Unrest," which, quietly and without making a big splash, positions itself as one of the best pop records of the year.

Yes, because over the last two years, Sara has grown a lot both artistically and personally, leading her to achieve a maturity in composing and communicating that elevates her above the average of those "Amosian" singer-songwriters who crowd the increasingly saturated music scene: the result of this growth is a record that manages to be fresh, without inventing anything, in which Bareilles seems to describe the world around her through the innocent eyes of a child. Sure, the levels reached by Tori Amos during her golden era (see, for example, "Little Earthquakes" and "Under the Pink") are still beyond Sara’s reach, but she easily reaches those of a Regina Spektor, especially in the more introspective pieces (the sweet piano-voice ballads "Manhattan" and "Islands" are very reminiscent of "Samson," one of the most beautiful compositions by the Russian singer-songwriter). Notable, however, are also the more cheerful and radio-friendly tracks (the lead single "Brave," the charming jazz interlude of "Little Black Dress," and the highly inspired "Chasing the Sun," in my opinion among the best tracks), as well as those where she ventures into some successful electronic experimentation ("Eden," "I Choose You," the bonus track "I Wanna Be Like Me") and the almost lounge episodes of "Hercules" and "December." The whole is crowned by great care for arrangements and, above all, for the lyrics, always highly inspired and varied in terms of themes and subjects addressed (see, for example, the anthem of courage in "Brave," the poetry of "Chasing the Sun," and the stories in "Cassiopeia" and "Satellite Call"). Also noteworthy are Bareilles' voice, which enchants with her magnetic and powerful timbre, exuding positivity in every single note she hits, and the command she has of the piano, which unfortunately is never shown off with some solo or improvisation that would surely have been pleasant to listen to.

"The Blessed Unrest" is, in short, an album to be listened to and not overlooked, because in an increasingly empty and self-serving spectacularity-driven pop landscape, there is a need to value simple and genuine talents capable of giving us works like this. Of course, it’s not a masterpiece that will be remembered as a landmark in music history (not least because perhaps it doesn’t even have the presumption to aspire to such recognition), but it is an honest album, made with passion and sure to be appreciated by those seeking good quality pop music.