Album: Faith Hill

Cry, Warner Bros

Like Shania Twain, Faith Hill is a country diva of a particularly urbane cast, seeking comparison more with the likes of Celine and Mariah and Whitney than with such as Loretta and Patsy, and eagerly open to all the homogenising blandishments of modern studio technology. She even employs that vocal harmonising effect now indelibly associated with Cher's "Believe" on one track, and heaven alone knows how many different vocal takes were used to punch-in the various syllables of the phrase "my insecurities" in "This Is Me". The result on Cry is a tough, synthetically-armoured expression of the familiar country sentiments – hope and heartbreak, patriotism and alcoholism – with more than a touch of the Bonnie Tylers creeping into the ghastly epic romanticism of a track like "When the Lights Go Down", all pinned down by a session crew of musician's musicians drawn from the ranks of such premier outfits as Was (Not Was) and Zappa's Mothers Of Invention. So though she may sing about being "Free" in the song of that title, she's actually imprisoned by the demands of musical super-commerce, and thanks to the over-attentive production work, with the musicians fussing around her like worker bees tending their queen, she even sounds imprisoned, too. Not that this will bother her in the least: with more than 25 million sales to her name so far, and more awards than can easily fit on a stately home's mantelpiece, Faith Hill is very clearly set on ushering in the age of the über-diva. Exactly what it has to do with country music, though, is anybody's guess.