Harry Connick Jr. ‘Every Man Should Know’ Album Review

Harry Connick, Jr. is best known to some for an acting career that includes roles ranging from that of an alien-fighting pilot in Independence Day to a district attorney on Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. As a musician, his career is even more illustrious. Connick’s first release came in 1977, when he was 10 years old and played piano for a local Dixieland group. Since then he has crafted a very consistent and workmanship-like discography, featuring primarily lounge-ready songs that borrow from pop and Latin influences as well as jazzy roots from Connick’s native New Orleans. Even on his new album, Every Man Should Know, he continues to wear his old-fashioned influences on his sleeve; his vocals on a track like “I Love Her” recalls the richly resonating romanticism of Frank Sinatra. And although his greatest successes show a similar sort of sound, the pleasant yet straightforward album also pursues elements of country, folk, and pop.

“Greatest Love Story” goes to the south’s more rootsy influences, where swift fiddles and tender acoustics lead a story centered on reminiscing and first times. “My mama said to live ‘til I was dead,” Connick sings over a bustling twang. “We run away to a lifetime, like I know we could.” Despite its good-hearted simplistic nature, the repetition becomes too much. The chorus starts out nicely with its lively shuffle, but its resemblance to the verse makes the impact stale. This is one of those mid-tempo love songs Connick should best leave to country stars. More his style is “Being Alone”, whose suave jazz swing and Sinatra-inspired vocal stylings show a melancholic yet cool tone with a caressing sax and delicate keys. When Connick wants to sing about love, he’s often better off going to his big band and swing influences rather than his country and folk staples. “Being Alone” shows that firmly, and is one of the most striking efforts on Every Man Should Know. Its livelier cousin, the gospel-inspired “S’pposed to Be”, finds similar success in being firmly entrenched in a colorful past. The jovial chorus, once again accompanied by sax, is one of the album’s most charming moments.

Some efforts on Every Man Should Know are good in theory, such as the optimistic brass-studded “Friend (Goin’ Home)” with another gospel-inspired delivery, but the arrangements are too stiff to truly carry the ideas. “Friend (Goin’ Home)” rides on lazy brass bursts and vocals that perfectly reflect the instrumental notes; the production and general execution is technically flawless, but the songwriting leaves much to be desired. Even a soaring gospel choir can’t hide the fact that hooks are absent here. Similar issues plague the self-titled opening track; the synth stabs sound out of place, and overly synth-heavy, in comparison to the natural lounge aids of piano, bass, and percussion. “Friend (Goin’ Home)” and “Every Man Should Know” are pleasant in their appearance, but the lack of hooks or interesting twists makes revisiting them a chore. Again, arranging specifically with the attempted style in mind – as Connick did for “I Love Her” and “Being Alone” – as opposed to inserting commonly known staples of the style would have made for a more resounding result.

Even with the handful of lounge-y success on Every Man Should Know, Connick has more consistent albums in his discography that showcase his sensual cabaret-inspired vocals and smooth arrangements. Connick is having fun on tracks like the twangy “Greatest Love Story” and gospel template “Friend (Goin’ Home)”, but the engrossing songwriting he showed in the past just isn’t there in places. The album is frustrating, primarily because Connick successfully attempts a stylistic feat on one track, and then applies an overly familiar template toward the same stylistic realm elsewhere. The contrast between the riveting “S’pposed to Be” and the stylistically comparable “Friend (Goin’ Home)” is representative of this struggle, and Connick’s stylistic indecisiveness throughout the bulk of Every Man Should Know.