D-List Divas: Mandy Moore and Paula Cole

Two albums have been sitting on my desk for over a month now. I may have forgotten them because, despite their good intentions and polished products, the artists themselves are forgettable.

Does anyone know why we know Mandy Moore? Why is she considered a star, even remotely? I dare you to name one of her songs. She's always gotten a lot of support from her record labels for albums that sold a fraction of what her poptart competitors sold. She has starred with some pretty big names (Diane Keaton, Hugh Grant, Robin Williams) in some pretty forgettable movies (Because I Said So, American Dreamz and License to Wed, respectively). Her biggest hit was 2002's teen drama A Walk to Remember, and I use "hit" very loosely.

The thing is, I like Mandy Moore. Unlike artists with down-to-earth personas that cover up their demands for gold-plated toilet seats, Moore is all about her healthy body-image and low-maintenance lifestyle. Plus, she starred in the religious satire Saved!, which was just flat-out fantastic. Her last effort, 2003's Coverage, an album of cover songs, showcased Moore's sophisticated tastes and stronger vocals but still didn't go anywhere.

Which is why I was curious about her new album, Wild Hope. She co-writes every song and collaborated with The Weepies and Rachael Yamagata, among others. She told Blender: "This is me, and these are my words, and this is my taste in music." Then, more dramatically: "I feel like in many ways this is my last chance to do a record on this level. If this doesn't work, how many opportunities do I get?"

Shedding her Lolita-with-a-mic past for a folky, earthy singer-songwriter vibe, Moore & Co. come up with pleasant but bland songs that blur into one long Lifetime drama theme song. Heavy on the acoustic guitar, piano and quiet vocals, Wild Hope tips over from subtle to sleepy. For someone who is supposedly free to express herself for the first time and laying it all on the line as if it's her last chance, Moore is sadly subdued. The first single, "Extraordinary," features a repetitive chorus of "Now I'm ready to be extraordinary." That's great. Instead of telling us about it (in an ordinary song, by the way), why doesn't she just actually try?

This is supposedly a grown-up, darker, melancholic Moore, deeper after surviving public break-ups with well-known actors and athletes. But the burning hostility of "Nothing That You Are", where Moore stabs an ex with "I hope you burn in hell," is undermined by the cheesy, random electric guitar and Moore's cop-out follow-up: "Or do I?" She went from day-um! to...damn.

Coincidentally, the other day I was flipping through the new Pottery Barn catalog that features a new focus on "nature" with wood candles and tree-branch wall-art. It reminded me of Wild Hope because not only does its match the album's cover art (sepia-toned photos of Moore in vintage dresses hiking through the woods) but because they both feature pretty, earnestly "natural" yet bland aesthetics that can be found, done better, elsewhere. (Since they're such a good match, I'd love to see her actually in the PB catalog: "New item! Mandy Moore - Chestnut-tressed, with skin like vanilla-flecked creme brulee, this all-American pop star makes the perfect accent to your living room or veranda. Catalog/internet only. $24.95. Free shipping.")

It's too bad the record doesn't work better since Moore can produce a neat phrase here and there ("here and gone, like a decoration for the holiday"), so hopefully any potential shown here will develop by her next album, if she does indeed get another chance.

In the meantime, she could learn a thing or two from talented songwriters who know how to use their voices to create sonic ambience, like Sarah McLachlin or Paula Cole (who Moore will be co-headlining a tour with). Remember Paula Cole? She came out of nowhere in 1996 with This Fire, featuring the moody, left-field hit "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?" and the Dawson's Creek theme song, "I Don't Want to Wait." After an eight-year hiatus due to record company snafus, getting married and divorced and raising a baby, Cole is back with Courage.

Incredibly self-reflective and brutally, sometimes disturbingly, honest, each song on Courage is like reading Cole's mind as she writes in her journal. Her anger, confusion, regrets and fantasies are laid bare before us, creating a portrait of a fascinating, complicated woman.

Nowhere is this more obvious than the opening, "Comin' Down." In this haunting, primal chant/prayer, we know exactly where she is, her view looking both behind her and to the future. "Lord, make me a lighting bolt to burn off this ring," she begins, asking for help in making better choices. It's hard to overestimate a songwriter who can sum up her spiritual evolution in one song, with bridges that start with "I see the greatness above and the smallness of me," then opens herself up to "I see the greatness within; the greatness in me." Far from arrogance, it's actually humility and trust in the universe and her place in it.

Substituting a jazzier, torchy sound for her previous folksy, unshaved-armpit Womyn past, this is an older, slightly mellower Cole. Unfortunately, some of the arrangements veer into undistinguished, adult contemporary mode. For someone who claims "sometimes I'm too bold for my own good" (as Cole does in "Safe In Your Arms"), you wish that boldness would make its way into the arrangements, not just the words. And not one but two songs turn into duets out of nowhere (the vocalists, Ivan Lins and Paul Buchanan, are not credited on the track listing), creating the jarring feeling that an intimate performance has been interrupted by some drunk stumbling into the studio.

Still, Cole has two weapons at her disposal: her lyrics and her voice. She writes as if using lazy clichés are not only insulting to the audience, but denying her own truth. And her thick, rich, gutteral voice can crawl and float through her range with emotional precision.

It probably doesn't appear fair to title this "D-List Divas," as neither Moore nor Cole seem to be especially diva-ish. But both are starting over - one trying to escape her poppy past, the other trying to climb back into the public radar. And, unfortunately, neither of them seem to be breaking onto radio or TV, either. It remains to be seen if either one can (re-)claim their pop crowns, or if their albums will be remembered a year, or a month, from now.

Also check out: Feist Feels It All. A Lot.
And: Soul Sisters: Amy Winehouse and Joss Stone.