I bought lead single “Why” when it came out in 1992, in the limited edition plastic box that I confidently assumed would become a collectors’ item. Almost thirty five years later, it appears to be worth roughly the same £4 I paid for it, which is less an investment portfolio and more a small plastic monument to misplaced optimism. Still, I bought the single, then the album, because the music mattered. When this modern reissue of the vinyl was in a sale a couple of years ago I added it to the collection with the quiet inevitability of someone who had already lost the argument with himself.
The record itself sounds lovely. There is a pleasing sense of weight and space to it, and the Optimal pressing gives the whole thing that slightly elevated air of quality that makes you feel the record deserves to be handled whilst wearing a faint expression of seriousness.
Track by track, “Diva” still holds up remarkably well. “Why” remains the obvious centrepiece, a song so stately and exposed that it seems to arrive already knowing it will be used in emotional television montages until the end of time. Yet the album is not simply a vehicle for its lead single. “Primitive” has a haunting, almost spectral quality, with Lennox’s voice moving through the arrangement like someone carrying a torch through a darkened room. “Money Can’t Buy It” is another highlight, all poise, tension and quiet menace, proving that Lennox could make restraint sound every bit as dramatic as a grand gesture.
“Little Bird” is the album’s most overtly electronic moment, and probably the track that most clearly glances back towards Eurythmics. That is no criticism. Its sharper groove gives the record a welcome surge of movement, and it remains one of the album’s highlights precisely because it lets a little synth-pop urgency into an otherwise meticulously composed room. “Precious”, meanwhile, benefits from the kind of bass hook you would expect from Stephen Lipson, whose production influence keeps the arrangements glossy without leaving them sterile.
Not everything lands with equal force. “Stay by Me” and “The Gift” are more restrained, and on a less assured album they might have drifted into tasteful background territory. Here, though, the strength of Lennox’s presence and the polish of the production keep them interesting, but I can't pretend to enjoy them as much as other tracks.
Even as a teenager, the irony of a force of nature like Lennox recording “Keep Young and Beautiful” was not lost on me. It remains a wry, slightly theatrical ending that sends the album out with a raised eyebrow rather than a misty farewell. 4/5
