Nancy Wilson, You And Me. Album Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *

Nancy Wilson will, undoubtedly, be one of the artists that is remembered for all time as one of the most deserving of the written and spoken commendation     of the unparalleled, consummate and absolute queens of Rock, her style, her panache and ability underlining every ounce of near flawless pursuit of grabbing the right song with her sister in the legendary U.S. band Heart, and perhaps the only surprise is that she has never taken that grace and air of confidence to the place where the inevitable solo album resides.

Almost 46 years on from the release of the album that eventually one of the biggest and finest bands on the planet, the incredibly lush Dreamboat Annie, Nancy Wilson has finally emulated her sister Ann in releasing a debut solo recording, and one that is every bit as important to her name, and the overall attachment that fans have in the highest regard to the music created by the sisters and subsequent musicians.

You And Me, a title that exudes intimacy, a sense of familiar privacy and affection, and one that quite rightly portrays the sense of beauty and strength of love that is felt between the musician and the listener; and for Nancy Wilson that love is captured in absolute sincerity, in style across the tracks that make up this much-longed for album such a pleasure to immerse yourself in.

There is no sense of distance or reluctance to be found within the space that the recording sits comfortably in, there is no pressure being exacted on the artist to be anything but relaxed and genuine, heartfelt, in her words and songs, and in that there is great joy to be embraced, for an artist to be pushed into a corner and be demanded they perform or else face the consequences, is to remove the artistic integrity and bow to the inevitable decline of honour.

The album captures Ms. Wilson in a world of openness, and in tracks such as The Rising, Daughter, Party At The Angel Ballroom, which features the impressive Taylor Hawkins and Duff McKagan, The Dragon and Walk Away, as well as faithful and incredible cover of the Simon and Garfunkel classic, The Boxer, again utilising the sublime skill that Sammy Hagar provides, that openness is upright, physical, and substantial, and one that only asks one thing in return, acceptance.

Sometimes in life you have to wait for the moment of sensuality to arrive, for a sign of continuation to appear, and in You And Me, Nancy Wilson arrives on time with a guitar in hand and a fresh perspective on the longevity of her music and her name; and the result is glorious. 

Ian D. Hall