808s And Crumpets: Nobody Asked For An Autotune Revival

Mr. Hudson’s mentor and producer Kanye West has been quoted as saying: “I believe Mr Hudson has the potential to be bigger than me, to be one of the most important artists of his generation.” Certainly an uncharacteristically yielding statement from King Ego – but what does it mean about Straight No Chaser, Hudson’s latest album? Is Kanye’s stamp of approval a sign of true talent or, at least, a hitmaking stroke?

Not exactly.

Mr. Hudson may benefit from America’s rekindled affection for British mediocrity, but whatever stake he’s laying claim to with Straight No Chaser, this tweedy former electro-indie artist simply has bad timing. Had this album come out in the immediate wake of 808s And Heartbreak, it would be a better fit, and some would’ve undoubtedly bought into the successor line and begun grooming him as an “important artist.” But the world has moved on, especially from that fucking computer voice trend, and not a damn soul feels the slightest bit sorry for Kanye’s sad robot crooning any longer. Autotune itself has finally become a gimmick-ridden timestamped joke, joining disco and rap-metal in the ranks of severely dated – and largely abhorred – musical trends.

And for Hudson, that’s a damn shame – or rather, it’s a shame that he let his artistic vision get put through such a damning, dated filter. It renders the album almost entirely unlistenable. Kid Cudi’s limited rhyme skills make Everything Is Broken a little less, well, broken, while the robot-free tune Lift Your Head is an optimistic little piano-poppy with radio promise after a remix. “There’s no weight too great, there’s no distance too far,” he sings, but it’s not entirely convincing. America’s not quite ready to get this airy and dismissive of established trends just yet.

Time is a bare, reflective piano ballad that finds Hudson sounding like a very British, tinnier Bono. In the technological falsetto dreamscape of Instant Messenger, lines like “I’m gonna squash our love like an economic crash” stagger slowly over sparse beats and drippings of piano. Love and loss are explored through a lyrical landscape that shows promise, and Stiff Upper Lip hits enough of the right notes to make me think that this guy won’t be completely cast aside by his unfortunate choice of associations and trend adherence after Straight No Chaser.

Hudson’s former Hudson & The Library cohort Joy sings beautifully over the drippy scattered beats of Central Park, but Kanye’s two appearances on the album are disappointing showings, given that he’s long been known for outshining whoever it is he’s guesting with. He climbs fully back into the 808s And Heartbreak schtick for his weighty contributions to Supernova, with epic ambition soaked in the cheese of his own design.

By co-signing on Mr. Hudson, Kanye may have doomed his protege by association and influence. It’s not hard to see how this album could’ve been better in the hands of a producer that was interested in serving the music with deference to the artist’s vision. Unfortunately, Straight No Chaser sounds like a wing-ride by Hudson and ultimately just a way for Kanye to try and convince us that there’s still something respectable about Autotune – long after it’s become a joke in which he’s the punchline. Don’t write him off the map just yet, but until Mr. Hudson stands on his own two feet it’s impossible to condone what he’s up to.