Those who were irked last time around by Katie Melua's unsubstantiated claims that there are, and I quote, "nine million bicycles in Beijing" and that indeed "that's a fact, it's a thing we can't deny"--when at best it can be no more than an exaggerated guesstimate and at worst just plain made up--will be pleased to learn that there are no comparable aspersions on new album Pictures. There may still be instances when things just don't seem to make much sense at all, and metaphors can tire in her company, though set alongside a trademark melting lullaby such moments don't really tend to linger. Pictures is an album that, while essentially doing only what it should and little more, also begins to signal that her potential could yet be realised. Where she has always had the silk-lined voice of a fairy admiring her beauty in a dew-drop, and her albums of modern mainstream jazz have become naturally affiliated with bubble baths by candlelight, or large glasses of red wine sipped slowly, or both, this is where she starts exhibiting signs of maturity. On "What I Miss About You", "Spellbound" and "Perfect Circle" she sounds older, more contemplative, almost commanding, and genuinely soulful. Rising above the generic parapet she makes small steps towards an identity of her own. Perhaps more than just a pretty voice after all. --James Berry