Disclaimer: for this and future albums that do not fit the description of avant-garde hip hop/R&B/Jazz and what have you, there will be a new tag named OOJ, which stands for Out Of Jurisdiction. This album will be the first example.
Considering the current state of America, it makes a lot more sense than it has any right to that the pop landscape is…depressing. Love songs hardly sound like they are in love or even enjoying being in love. Tragedy seems to hit people at every turn. Nothing truly feels like anyone has any genuine hope, and if they do, the hope is asterisked with a grain of doubt. And all of it is romanticized to high heaven. To be fair, Peoria’s own Melvin Burch knows this feeling all too well.
If his yearly experiment show This is Melvin teaches us anything, it is that Melvin Burch is the king of over thinking his situations and the king of realizing that trying to think about the consequences as a means to avoid them doesn’t always work out in one’s favor. Yet, if Smile For the Camera is any indication, Melvin shows that he is willing more than ever to walk through the hell of life anyway because heaven may be on the other side. That is why Smile for the Camera should be known as 2019’s most important pop album.
Pop songs have a tradition of smiling with the music and frowning with their lyrics, but if Melvin HAS to acknowledge the hardships of life, he isn’t the least bit interested in tricking you that way. “Sorry City”, in itself, is a song about feeling stuck in a town or within an emotionl rut (“25, feeling 52/Everybody’s talking something new”), but rather than complain about where one is at in life, he does it with the emotional indication that he has a plan.
What Burch unknowingly did by placing the angry with the positive is offering a more humanistic vision of a troubled mind trying to abandon the trouble for calmer waters. (“Drop It” in itself is a song about looking to leave behind depression for a chance in the spotlight.) Considered by Burch himself as “rap adjacent”, Burch is willing to oblige (yet not positively) people’s hunger for having a little hip hop in their music with the witty and antagonistic banger “U Say I Be”. The funk-infused “Washed” is an audible version of a heavy sigh, which in itself is relatable in its need to cope with a good life deterred. “To be candid, I think I’m running out of chances,” Melvin smirks. “You could find me imitating Michael Jackson dances.” Thank goodness for small graces, I suppose.
The closer “Hyperdrive” closes on the note that the whole album has been trying to hint at: leave the bull behind and go towards his dreams for a better life. But before he can do this, he claims to “need fuel”. Whether fuel be money, constant love, or constant motivation is moot.
If there is any lyric in the whole album that best describes this album, it would be “Washed”‘s fateful question: “too many lights are in the sky/is there one still left in me?” Burch probably could guess how many people in and out of the music industry are looking for the answer to this very question as we speak. The beautiful thing about Smile for the Camera is that you at least know that he will not give up trying to find it. So, why should you?