Okay, so he has a face that marks him as the illegitimate child of Boy George and an eyebrow plucker, but how Sam Smith looks is immaterial once he opens his mouth and sings. That voice is as smooth as chocolate mousse and as sexy as a tray of truffles carried by a skimpy hot hunk at one’s doorstep. I have this dreadful feeling that he can be singing the greatest hits of Barney the Purple Dinosaur and I’d still feel tempted to fling my underwear at him. Sorry about the awful images stuck in your head, but this is the truth: this album is hot.
His collaboration with Naughty Boy, La La La, is one best listened to sporadically due to the annoyingly infectious hook running wild in that track, but tracks like Money on My Mind and Good Thing are solid soulful tracks that just melt in the miss and obliterates better judgment, making me want to press my hands together and sigh dreamily at the radio. Stay with Me is especially awful because it makes me want to squeal in giddy joy like a silly little girl.
Guess it’s true, I’m not good at a one-night stand
But I still need love ’cause I’m just a man
These nights never seem to go to plan
I don’t want you to leave, will you hold my hand?
That is the corniest thing ever, but when the whole thing is sung in that voice, I can’t resist.
Why am I so emotional?
No, it’s not a good look – gain some self-control
And deep down I know this never works
But you can lay with me so it doesn’t hurt
He also has this adorable way of shifting effortlessly into a dulcet falsetto, making tracks like Life Support – where his normal voice “duets” with his falsetto – so, so good to my ears.
Seriously, it should be illegal how this young man wields that voice like the second coming of Marvin Gaye bent on destroying all common sense and making susceptible innocent people like me drool like an idiot. I try very hard to resist, but at the end of the day, I’m lost. How annoying.