The first things that sticks with you from Remember Your North Star are a couple of razor blades embedded in the candyfloss. The album has a lot of the cloud-like consistency of candyfloss; the music is soft, gentle and jazzy. It’s ever so mildly effervescent. It provides the softest of velvet to envelop the iron of “mama loves her son” and of “i’m certain she’s there.” These snippets of her personal suffering and the universal pain that they mirror are storytelling of the absolute highest caliber.
She’s also a lot of fun when she stunts though. The swagger in “big daddy ya” is as infectious as the music. It’s empowering to sing along to. Similarly, her bragging in “keisha” is impeccable. You’re as puzzled as she is at someone unable to appreciate how good she is.
The only issue here is that sometimes in between all of these strengths, she can take the relaxation of the music and slip too far into languor. The jazz of “reprise” is mostly strong, but in places like the chorus become a little too smooth for even her vocals to save. It’s a great album, albeit one that would have been elevated by a little more energy. Still, I’m certainly not churlish enough not to like nice things.
Top Five Records 
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