
It was sad, actually,” Smith recently told The Fader. “When I was 14 or 15, I was promised stardom. Smith isn’t the songwriter that Adele is, and while she caught attention with the character and bite of her 2006 MySpace demos, Smith was singing the hooks on other people’s tracks, winning acclaim for his chart-flying pop performances before he really had a voice of his own. Some of his earliest gigs were in support of her, and they share an aesthetic and a global label, but In The Lonely Hour is not 19. Throughout his sudden rise to prominence, Smith has been frequently compared to another all-black-wearing, ballad-slaying British singer in the form of Adele. All of this wouldn’t be such a bad thing if there was a enough diversity in sound to keep things moving, but despite some moments that are more lush (‘Good Thing’) or more stripped-back (‘Leave Your Lover’, ‘I’ve Told You Now’) than others, the album rarely venturing away from from arrangements as tried and tested as your mum’s record collection. ‘I’ve Told You Now’, ‘Leave Your Lover’, ‘Like I Can’, ‘Life Support’, ‘Not In That Way’ and ‘I’m Not The Only One’ all dwell on unrequited love and rejection in terms so similar it’s difficult to remember which lyric comes from which track. On ‘Leave Your Lover’, the album’s fourth track, the sentiment of the opener is already being repeated (“what use is money / when you need someone to hold?”). The lack of emotional range is grating by the time you get halfway into the record. Watching him live, it’s obvious why so many fell over themselves to give him awards ahead of his first release. Mostly, he walks the right line between soulfulness and hackneyed sentiment despite his tendency to belt lyrics that sound like they were made to be Instagrammed, his delivery is consistently sensitive.

‘Stay With Me’ blasts off with an ambitious gospel chorus, showing off both Smith’s huge pipes and his open-hearted lyricism. On ‘Good Thing’ his voice is soft and malleable as he laments having to cut people who don’t treat him right out of his life, building around the catchy aphorism “too much of a good thing / won’t be good for long”. There’s no question that this album is one filled with love, nor that Smith has buckets of vocal talent.

Unfortunately, the bold opening line turns out to be a misfire at the front of an album like In The Lonely Hour, citing the “pressure” of having a deal simply feels like an apology for what’s to follow.

Having won both the BBC Sound of 2014 poll and then the Critics’ Choice award at the 2014 Brits earlier this year, the expectations and reputations riding on Smith’s debut were immense. To come through on such a brave premise, In The Lonely Hour should have been a blinder of a pop album from an artist with a vision so strong he dispelled all doubts that he was doing anything “for the money”. It was somehow both subversive and totally sincere, but the potential for accusations of hypocrisy loomed larger than the screens showing Smith’s face.

The first time I heard him sing these words, he had been brought out onstage with Taylor Swift for the London leg of her Red tour to belt his anti-money, anti-fame values centre stage at the gigantic O2 arena. By directly addressing the hype that he’s been surrounded by ever since appearing on Disclosure’s 2012 chart hit ‘Latch’ and the high stakes of his major label deal, he shoots for honesty and point-scoring self-awareness by staring straight into the many critical eyes that are focused on his next step. The opening words of Sam Smith’s debut album are “When I signed my deal, I felt pressure”, which is a brave move.
