It’s March 6, or as it’s known in my house, shooting guard Josh Hart’s birthday. The New York Knicks just torched the Denver Nuggets in Ball Arena, 142-103. “It’s … the closer they get to the basket, he’s got to clean that up. And he will. He’s a smart guy, he’ll learn,” Denver’s head coach David Adelman tells the press. But wait … what’s that I hear in the background? No, it can’t be. And yet it is: Natasha Bedingfield’s 2004 smash-hit “Unwritten” is blasting from the Knicks locker room and drowning out the voice of Adelman as he reflects on his team’s (poor) performance. I am practically giddy as I write this, almost two weeks post-game. If you know me, you know that I am an enormous Knicks fan, and few things light me up like a Knicks win. If you know basketball, you know that March kicks off the most intense period of the entire season, with NBA teams getting in their final games before playoffs begin in April and the fever of March Madness taking over the world of college basketball. And there my team is, rejoicing with some Natasha Bedingfield after demolishing one of the best teams in the NBA and serving Nikola Jokić the biggest score deficit of his career during the regular season. I have never been more sure in my life that I am a fan of the right team. So, to celebrate this historic win and send my Knicks some good juju as we prepare to head into the playoffs, this week I’ll be revisiting Bedingfield’s debut album Unwritten.
The album commences with “These Words,” one of the most lauded songs on the record next to the title track. This song has a dual meaning, with one reading focusing on the power of the words “I love you,” and the other dealing with the pressure to write a great song. The chorus is heartfelt and effectively conveys the simplicity of those three words: “These words are my own / From my heart flow / I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” Bedingfield sings. Heavy R&B influences reverberate throughout “Single” — funnily enough, the album’s first single. It’s Bedingfield’s self-proclaimed “declaration of independence” where she embraces her singledom with her stunning signature rasp. “I’m A Bomb” — which one could call a proto-“Confident” by Demi Lovato — is electric, zapping the album with even more life.
Someone call Glen Powell — next is his Anyone But You character’s serenity song, the track that seems to resurrect about once every five years, the ultimate feel-good listen, “Unwritten.” The lyrical prowess here basically tackles you from the start, but it becomes especially obvious during the pre-chorus — “Staring at the blank page before you / Open up the dirty window / Let the sun illuminate the words that you cannot find / Reaching for something in the distance / So close you can almost taste it” — and becomes absolutely undeniable during the chorus. “I Bruise Easily” slows the album back down after the purest, most upbeat pop song on the record. The lyrics are tender, and in turn, her voice takes on a special kind of gentleness. “If You’re Gonna Jump” is a turn to hip-hop, and although it’s a fun song overall, the backing track set against her voice during the chorus is a bit discordant, so this song drops to the bottom of the rankings for me.
“Silent Movie” might as well jump through your earbuds, shake you and scream “I was made in 2004,” because that’s exactly what it sounds like. There’s something intangible about the song that causes this effect, and I’m not complaining. Her deep, rich vocals here are some of the best on Unwritten. “We’re All Mad In Our Way” includes a Hamlet reference in the opening, and it makes my heart happy; “I think the lady did protest too much,” Bedingfield croons, putting her own spin on Shakespeare’s line, “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” Unfortunately, this is where the song’s highlights end — besides the opening, the song is repetitive, and just feels like one rendition of the chorus after another. “Frogs and Princes” is one of my personal favorites from the album. Bedingfield’s voice takes on a smoky quality as she laments the minefield of dating in this Muni Long-esque track. “Drop Me In The Middle” features Bizarre from D12 and sees Bedingfield wanting to make an impact on the world around her. “Wild Horses” — no, not the one by The Rolling Stones — is a ballad, and is perhaps the most honest song on Unwritten. Meanwhile, “Size Matters” is a much more wholesome track than one might imagine. Bedingfield explains, “Size matters (size matters), but not how you think / I’m talking ‘bout your heart / And what you do with it.” “Peace of Me” (not a mistype!) is infused with rock and surrounds Bedingfield’s journey becoming whole again, while “Sojourn” acoustically closes out the record in a rawer, more informal way.
Small forward OG Anunoby dropped 34 points in that glorious game on March 6. Still, anyone who knows anything about OG (aside from his ability to dominate on both sides of the court) knows that it takes a lot for that man to crack a smile. During his post-game interview, commentator Monica McNutt asked him, “What do you think I’m about to say to you, OG?” to which he replied, “I’m not sure.” McNutt told him, “Smile, bro! You had an outstanding game,” prompting him to perfunctorily grit his teeth. Maybe OG wasn’t ready to smile due to his usual predisposition to a straight face. Or maybe it’s because the job’s not done yet; as Natasha Bedingfield enlightens us, “the rest is still unwritten.”
Test Spins is a fortnightly throwback column reviewing and recommending classic and underrated albums from the past. It runs every other Friday.
Sydney Levinton is a member of the Class of 2027 in the College of Arts and Sciences. She was the Arts and Culture Editor on the 142nd and 143rd Editorial Boards and is currently a Senior Editor. She can be reached at slevinton@cornellsun.com.
