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21 of 22 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
A little bit heiress, a little bit Irish, November 28, 2004
The second album from Rufus Wainwright was a quantum leap from the disjointed debut. The songs on "Poses" fit seamlessly next to each other, giving this Cd the feel of a conceptual whole. Rufus took the effort to hone in on his strengths here, and it makes "Poses" a far more rewarding listen.
As he chronicles on the opening "Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk," overindulgence often gets the better of him. It's a familiar terrain for this disc, be it the dark cloud that hovers over the peppy "California" or the confused soul at the heart of "Rebel Prince." Rufus' character studies (which are wonderfully realized on both of his "Want" albums) reached the levels of his parents' best work here. Perhaps the most profound example of this is the melancholic title song, tracking the general shallow disdain of the too-chic-for-their-own-good urban hipsters. (As other reviewers have noted, it made a perfect coda to an episode of "Queer As Folk's" second season.)
"I did go from wanting to be someone
now I'm drunk and wearing flip flops on fifth avenue.
Once you've fallen from classical virtue
won't have a soul for to wake up and hold you."
It's a fate that Rufus allegedly fell into between this disc and "Want One," but he made the trap sound so sweet and inviting. His voice gained expressiveness for "Poses," even if it meant losing some of the boyish clarity of the debut, it has also made him a more emotive singer (and continued to grow in ability after this CD). Rufus Wainwright may have made a lot of changes for "Poses," but he kept his uniqueness. In an age of cookie cutter pop and writing, that is the greatest virtue of them all.
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24 of 26 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Retaining Mystique While Facing Forward..., September 14, 2004
I remember hearing much buzz around Rufus upon the release of his self-titled first album. Ever mindful that there is also much buzz around swarms of killer bees and felonious haircuts, I stayed away. Hearing Rufus himself would have to wait until I stumbled upon "Complainte de la Butte" off the "Moulin Rouge!" soundtrack... not his song, but a distinct improvement over any interpretation I had heard previously. "Hosanna in the highest," thought I, "the buzzards actually got something right!"
What to do? As I wallowed in willful blindness, this guy cut three (four if one adds the unreleased "Want Two" to the tally) albums, and I soon realized I was not in Kansas anymore. Since I lack the requisite footwear to click my heels three times and hope for the best, I bought all three albums and hoped for the best. "Poses" was first in queue. I wish I could ascribe musicologically cosmic motives to my choice. Alas and alack, I applied the far more banal "what's the first song called?" test. Then, as now, "Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk" seemed to me a more appealing prospect than "Foolish Love," if for no other reason than that I enjoy the former and have seen my share of the latter.
Fortunately, "Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk" happens to be a strikingly original and genially self-effacing paean to overindulgence. This theme is captured both in the lyrics and the music, which deviates from "spare" in virtually every respect. Rufus keeps this "singing shall set me free" lens focused squarely on himself throughout the album, including a brilliant exercise in double-entendre by covering his father's "One Man Guy." He seems completely at ease ignoring the precepts by which commercial music is ordained as such, though his radio-friendly "California" dispels any doubt that this tendency is a function of choice rather than necessity. His greatest achievement on this album (and I soon found on others) is promulgating an effective species of songwriting bereft of slavish reliance to melodic symmetry, harmonically conclusive phrases, and uncluttered instrumental textures. His genious is not in eschewing these practices but rather in supplementing them with musical devices all his own.
One minor gripe is that Rufus's pronunciation seems at times needlessly mannered. I too lived in Montreal over an extended period, yet his categorical refusal to sustain a note over the long vowel sound "ee" still perplexes me (or should I say "may"). Recently, a learned friend of mine explained that this phenomenon is known as "diphthong" problem in formal singing parlance. I'm reluctant to even mention a "diphthong problem" because it sounds like a case for a urologist. A quick skim of the liner notes confirms that a urologist is one thing this boy most definitely does not need. But I digress.
Rufus Wainwright communicates the plight of the forlorn and the foolish through decidedly non-formulaic musical language. His lyrics frankly address his homosexuality. In an ideal world, these characteristics would be virtues, or at least non-issues, rather than liabilities. Since we're saddled with the world we live in now, I doubt that Rufus Wainwright will soundly connect with the majority of the listening public. The goal of universal appeal seems as dubious as it is quixotic, especially since Earth does not want for people exhibiting deplorable tastes in all matters aesthetic (to wit, boy-bands, Capri pants and White House denizens). There are far too many variables of the nature versus nurture variety to predict exactly who will enjoy this music. Rufus counts among his fans the the old and young, the enlightened and the daft, the boys and the girls (who may like boys, girls, neither or both). In short, it's pretty damned confusing. If you find yourself among the chosen few who latch onto the Rufus train, this album's got smoking wheels, and will lead you to a lovelier place.
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29 of 34 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
A Genius In Our Midst, January 24, 2003
This second album by Rufus Wainwright is a stunning achievement and sublime follow-up to this musical genius's first release, though I grudgingly welcome listening to any song after the peerless track from his first CD, FOOLISH LOVE. How can you improve on such sheer beauty and perfection? And yet Wainwright does just that with his song POSES, the title track, and the brilliant confessional in CIGARETTES AND CHOCOLATE MILK: "Please be kind if I'm a mess." At present writing, POSES, an '01 release, is currently sold out in Los Angeles at Tower and Amoeba. Go there and just mention it to the salespeople at either store and witness their uncanny enthusiasm, their singular joy at the talent of Rufus Wainwright. I'm bowled over completely by both his CDs --- I've never heard such original material, singing, phrasing and musicianship in many years. In POSES, substance prevails over image despite the surprising lyric, "There's never been such a grave a matter as comparing our new brand name black sunglasses all these poses such beautiful poses makes any boy feel as pretty as princes..." How could this not stir the envy of Morrissey, Sondheim, Andrew Lloyd-Weber and Johnny-Come-Lately, John Mayer? What a mind, what a talent, what a gift -- POSES -- and the icing on the cake? Rufus' cover of John Lennon's masterpiece, ACROSS THE UNIVERSE. Sir Elton --- you should be phoning up Rufus Wainwright in my humble opinion.
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