Rita Ora review, You & I: Safe, polished, nothing special

Emotions often feels more TV-talent-show-performed than deeply owned

Rita Ora has released her third album ‘You & I’ (Edward Cooke)

“Unpolished” is how Rita Ora describes the sound of her third album, You & I. At least, by comparison to 2018’s Phoenix. But there’s still a shiny – and slightly deflective – sheen over this solid collection of 12 radio-ready pop songs. It’s weird that despite her impressive vocal range and power, Ora’s emotion often feels more TV-talent-show-performed than deeply owned. “I lost a part of me trying so hard to please/ I just find my echo/ Now I’m trying to let go” she admits towards the end of the album.

The singer, 32, has got a narrative you want to get behind. She’s a refugee who fled Kosovo for London during her childhood. Her mum (a psychiatrist) is her biggest fan, and she earned her stripes singing in her dad’s pub. She was signed to Jay Z’s Roc Nation label at 18 and released her platinum-selling debut Ora in 2012. After a messy split from Roc Nation (Ora claims she had recorded material the label failed to release), she bounced back (on Atlantic) with the forgettably fun Phoenix. Over the past decade, she’s clocked 10 billion global streams and held the record for the most Top 10 singles for a British female artist. She’s sung at the Oscars, the Vatican, and for then-president Barack Obama. Props.

This album was written in the wake of Ora’s marriage to New Zealand filmmaker Taika Waititi last year – its upbeat mood is buoyed by the confidence that comes with stability. Those who’ve worried if love is ever coming their way will relate to “Waiting for You”, on which Ora confides: “I had enough/ Given up/ Watched all my friends get married/ Lonely under the chandelier…” But then the song shakes off angst like a raincoat and explodes onto the dance floor in a bright burst of chunky synth chords. Single “Don’t Think Twice” finds her plunging headfirst into romance. Melodramatic strings give way to a more prosaic, head-nodder of a four/four beat as the singer urges her lover on: “Heaven is a shot in the dark/ So shoot with your heart… and aim for love.” Any potential tension of the moment, however, is undercut by the “nah-nahs”, which feel rather cynically engineered to make the song easier for listeners to hum along with. Instead of seizing the moment for a once-in-a-lifetime passion, you get the sense of songwriters trying to give you something to keep you from boredom in traffic.

“Praising You” (ft Fatboy Slim) picks up the pace. It’s a slick evolution of Norman Cook’s original, on which Ora sounds genuinely jubilant – arms aloft and giddy for it. She also gets a tantalising little Stevie Nicks-esque vocal scratch going on “Unfeel It”. To a murky beat and thready pizzicato pulse, she rails against having her “heart locked”: “F*** you I love you/ I’m freaking out.”

The title track is a series of big swells that don’t stick – the sort of ballad that plays you out of the cinema. “Shape of Me” comes stacked with more determined grit as Ora pays tribute to her mother repeatedly reassuring her through her troubles: “It’s OK though/ Use this s*** as ammo”. “Notting Hill” is a piano ballad that finds Ora nostalgic for the days when she sold sneakers on Portobello Road and thought breaking up with her teen boyfriend was the end of her world. It’s sweet and ought to let us into the specifics of her world – and yet, still it feels generic. You & I is strong enough to sell well. You’re bound to find yourself dancing to it at some point over the summer. It’s safe. Still polished. Nothing special.