Sounding like a record company invention rather than any organic discovery, Amos Lee comes across as cheesy as his Philadelphia birthplace on the follow-up to his eponymously-titled debut. And this an artist Rolling Stone singled out as one to watch back in 2005? I’d rather study a freshly-painted mansion drying, thank you very much.

Amos Lee, despite embracing folk, soul, and jazz, gives pop music a bad name. This is music without any edge. The very antithesis of Blue Note legends such as funky hard-bopper Art Blakey.

So when you learn Lee Alexander, the bassist in Norah Jones’ band, produced Amos Lee and that Ms Jones herself made an appearance on several of the tracks, playing piano and contributing vocals, the sounds of blandness start to make sense. This is background music so inconsequential that you’ve already forgotten about it the minute the CD has finished. If you’re not already gently snoozing by then.

And yet all is not lost. Amos Lee, you see, has a voice so clear, it would have been utilized as a clarion call in medieval times. An American version of James Morrison in that respect, Lee lacks the material to do his sweet vocals justice.

Sure, the boy can sing. Blue Note just need to hook him up with collaborators capable of bringing out his dark side. Otherwise another potentially great talent would have been laid to waste.

(2˝/5)