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It’s not only odd but also ironic that for all her success supporting others — Jeff Beck, Lou Reed, Tom Jones, among them — Imelda May hasn’t been able to step out from the shadows and make more of an indelible imprint on her own. With four albums to her credit, she’s still a relative unknown, a tenacious singer still struggling to find an audience she can call her own.
Of course, she’s not alone in that regard, but that’s hardly cause for consolation. And given the sadness and sentiment purveyed in the broadly titled Life, Love, Flesh, Blood, there’s hardly any glimmer of optimism besides. In a sense, it’s a concept album recounting the failures of love and the way a once viable romance often becomes shattered. In that regard, she sings her swan songs with the ache of the proverbial soul singer, and while her youth short-circuits any attempt to emulate the gravitas of an archival icon like, say, Billie Holiday, the feelings are still palpable and affecting regardless. There’s no subtlety in suggestive lyrics like “When you touch me rub a dub dub/You got my mind in the gutter of love” (from the song “Sixth Sense”), and considering the ease of her tease in “Black Tears,” “Levitate” and “How Bad Can a Good Girl Be” it’s clear she’s ready to assume the guise of a seductive vixen if it helps her land her man.
At other times, however, her desperation clearly shows. On “Human” she pleads that she will try to be “the best of me” when the relationship is steered to the brink. In fact, many of the songs seem preoccupied with a similar sense of desperation, making May appear less a dominant diva and more a vacillating victim. When one is forced to summon up life, love, flesh, and blood, the returns ought to be more rewarding than that which she’s received.
