n the strength of her debut album, most of us patronisingly dismissed Nelly Furtado as a pretty little thing with a modest talent, like a Canadian Natalie Imbruglia. Nick Hornby eulogised her biggest hit, Like a Bird, in his book, 31 Songs. But even his powerful advocacy struggled to convince many people that she possessed hidden depths.

Folklore, though, suggests that we underestimated her, for it finds Furtado doing some serious growing-up. At 23, perhaps she’s still too young for that, but since Whoa, Nelly! she has toured the world, spent a year in LA and started a family. She is not about to turn into Dido and don the sensible cardigan just yet, though: the melodies are still full of a potent pop urgency and the youthful exuberance continues to burn bright. But the title is significant.

Recorded in Toronto with the production team from her debut, Folklore is still a pop record, but there is nothing remotely vacuous about it. Songs such as Powerless, Try and Childhood Dream are deeply rooted in Furtado’s attempt to make sense of the world and her place in it. And her thoughtful lyrics are supported by the cleverest arrangements — a banjo accompanying the breakbeats on the single Powerless, a Victorian pipe organ on Explode, a tinge of Brazil on Island of Wonders in homage to her Portuguese heritage. Mature yet danceable, it’s a sparkling pop gem, the sort of album that Madonna these days can only dream of making.



Nigel Williamson

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