Bare

The first time I heard this album, I was alone in my kitchen, baking spice biscuits with the rain falling gently outside. It was a Saturday morning and I was still in my pyjamas, the weekend stretching deliciously before me. Now I know these domestic details sound inconsequential, but I assure you they are of great importance when listening to an album like 'Bare'. Let me explain why.

The first ingredient for true appreciation of Annie Lennox's latest offering is to be utterly by yourself, in a moment of reflection, melancholy or just containment. You need to be alone — this is not "upper" music, nor is it background dinner-party fare (Or at least it shouldn't be). Secondly, it's preferable for it to be raining. This is, quite simply, a rainy album.

'Bare' is Annie Lennox's first solo album in eight years (since 1995's Medusa) and during that time, it seems she has had her heart broken and stomped on in a million vicious ways. This album is her statement to the world that she needs healing. Gone is the image of the brash and cocky diva (although the diva voice is still very much there) and while in various tracks she still belts it out angrily as only Annie Lennox can, there is a strong undercurrent of regret and sadness that is quite breathtaking at times.

The name of the album is an obvious choice. She declares herself "exposed" and in part, that's exactly what she is. Naked. Most of the songs on the album are bitter lamentations of a life unfulfilled, at times confessions of mistakes that she's made and love that's gone wrong. She even writes on the back of the album: "I am not a young artist in their early twenties. I am a mature woman facing up to the failed expectations of life and facing up to 'core' issues".

It's unusual to have an artist reveal so much of herself to the listener in a world where image is everything. Could this be Annie Lennox's new facade? While it's surprising to discover that Annie Lennox has fears and insecurities like the rest of us mere mortals, it adds to the personal feel of the album, and gives credence to the often haunting lyrics.

In 'Pavement Cracks' she sings: "I'm goin' nowhere and I'm ten steps back/ All my dreams have fallen flat". In 'Loneliness': "And Emptiness…/ Is the chattering in your head/ It's the call of the living/ And the race from life to death". A forlorn sounding harmonica spirals itself around her voice, and one can only think of rain and empty streets when listening to it. You see, there's the rain I was talking about.

The last track, 'Oh God (Prayer)' literally burrows itself into your ear. It's an extremely intimate song, with the music pushed right back and Annie's voice brought forward. Here she pleads: "Oh God…/ Where are you now?/ And what are you gonna do/ About the mess I've made?/ If there was ever a soul to save/ It must be me".

But 'Bare' is not entirely wrist-slitting stuff. While it is slower and deeper than what you've come to expect of Annie Lennox, there is still a strong pop element to it that's reminiscent of her Eurythmics days. There are times when the synth is a little too cheesy, and it belies the power of her voice.

Songs like 'Erased', 'Wonderful' and 'Bitter Pill' are space-fillers, throwaway tunes which seem forced and where she seems to fall back into her old mould — songs that are easy and recognisable. Perhaps she felt just a bit too exposed.

If there were more of the intensely close, entwining ballads like 'A thousand beautiful things', the album would be truly potent. But then maybe you'd feel like the sun would never come out again. Nevertheless, 'Bare' is a masterful piece of work and it's good to have Annie Lennox back on the radar.