Nicholas Roy - ...in a shoebox under the bed (Album)
While Megan Washington might be doing it for the ladies in the world of top pop song writing, flying a little less obviously is a male counterpart, Nicholas Roy. This comparison is worth bringing up to begin with for a couple of reasons: the first being that each have a big single with the same story – obviously interpreted from the different gender, but essentially to the same point. Her ‘Cement’ and his ‘It’s All My Fault’ echo a similar betrayal in their lyrics (not to mention their frequent use of the f-bomb); and both are super catchy, clever tunes.
The second, useful reason for the comparison, is that more people might actually recognise Washington, and if they like the kind of varied pop stylings there then they’ll probably enjoy Roy’s offering of ...in a shoebox under the bed. There’s the sharing of stories, both sombre and delightful, here – an emotional mix that’ll leave you pretty satisfied by disc’s end.
It is genuinely a surprise to read that the majority of this record was recorded in the front room of Roy’s house. Don’t think for a moment you’ll be getting anything rough on this record, as all the self-programming will certainly prove that it’s how the tools are used, not where. The mood of the album, which shifts predominantly into darker places, is captured greatly by its production, and the electronic tones that begin to creep in and take over are very well utilised.
What’s especially good about ...in a shoebox under the bed is that while the tracks progress well from one end to the other, they can also stand strong alone, with multiple single opportunities presented. Opening number, ‘It’s All My Fault’ is certainly worthy of its heavy radio beatings; its simplicity in accompaniment displaying Roy’s writing ability and giving him a good start in the pop cred stakes.
The variety then kicks in immediately, as a deep piano and bass combo leads ‘Before the World Collapses’ – one of many tracks to demonstrate Roy’s dark side. The shadow returns on the haunting ‘Taxi’, in which Roy dreams of a secret life to escape his own, and during ‘Black Dog’, a track that utilises strange electronic choices to portray an intriguing description of depression.
There’s a lot to smile with though, and tracks like ‘Undercover’, with its rollicking pop piano melody, and the somewhat disjointed ‘Walls’ provide the album with sufficient positivity. The balance is right, which makes ...in a shoebox under the bed poignant in the end.
...in a shoebox under the bed isn’t an album to leave you in one place, but Roy has certainly shown a knack for moving the listener through his varied emotions without being at all jarring. Certainly the attention of its lead single is a good sign for the singer, as there’s a lot of attention deserved on this album.
