Do you know the song "Sand In My Shoes"?

It starts with an ethereal figure, like something off the great "Moon Safari" by Air, then slowly penetrates the atmosphere, comes down to Earth with an acoustic guitar and Dido starts to sing:

Two weeks away it feels like the world should’ve changed
But I’m home now
And things still look the same

Have you ever been on vacation and pondered what you’ve missed at home?  And then get back and find out nothing’s changed, and wanted to immediately jet back to your vacation location?  That’s what "Sand In My Shoes" is about.  But with the added twist of wanting to connect with that person you thought was a fling but now realize might be real, maybe even the love of your life.  When Dido sings "I want to see you again" her almost whisper-like voice becomes emphatic, you’re reminded of every love connection you’ve ever had, when your feelings, your desires, have been mirrored.

I didn’t get into "Life For Rent" via "Sand In My Shoes".  "White Flag" brought me there.  I wasn’t a Dido fan, but driving my mother’s Lexus in November 2004 on a week-long journey to clean out my possessions from the family home which my mom was finally abandoning, I heard "White Flag" on the radio incessantly.  I’d been listening to the satellite for almost two years, I was not used to this repetition.  By the second weekend, I was hooked.  And when I got back to L.A., I searched through hundreds of CDs until I found Dido’s latest opus.

There are so many great cuts on "Life For Rent".  The title track ponders one’s future.  Do you miss out if you never make commitments?  If you haven’t had the relationship in "See You When You’re 40", you’ve never been involved with a man with Peter Pan syndrome, and they’re rampant.  "See The Sun" is great.  But "Sand In My Shoes" is brilliant.

The album’s lyrics contain the intimacy, the wisdom of a woman.  These aren’t platitudes, but insights, and truth.  And it’s been years since I’ve encountered these in such a sleek, attractive package.  "Life For Rent" is a modern day Joni Mitchell album.

So you can imagine how much I’ve been looking forward to Dido’s new record.  I’ve been waiting for four years.  My heart’s been aching.  And finally a release date was set and a single was released.  Which was not as good as "White Flag".  "Look No Further" took too long to reach the hook, it was a dirge, but with strangely happy lyrics.  It wasn’t exactly bad, but it wasn’t magic.  I was disappointed, but I still had hope.

I no longer have hope.  I’m drenched in disappointment.  I’ve listened to Dido’s new album "Safe Trip Home" and I’m deflated.  It’s just not the same Dido.

There are certain sacred cows in the music business.  One is Jon Brion.  We’re supposed to love him, he’s so talented, a genius.  I’ll say if he’s so great, how come there’s never been a commercial breakthrough?  It’s an insider’s game.  Which is fine, but now he’s treaded in my territory.  I won’t say he’s ruined the new Dido album, but his production is second-rate compared to the one employed on the first two albums.  Instead of English electronic, it’s merely at times ethereal.  Dido’s voice is up front and center.  Which is an utter mistake.  She used to be in the mix.  A perfect place for someone with little projection, someone whose voice is just a couple of steps above a whisper.  Jon Brion has made an early Joni Mitchell record, sparse, with Dido featured, whereas her previous records were aural landscapes which we luxuriated in.  I think that’s even him singing on one of the tracks, the ultimate producer faux pas.

I’m not sure, because I don’t have any label copy, no liner notes.  You see "Safe Trip Home" isn’t going to be released commercially for another two weeks.  But I found it on RapidShare Monday.  I played it on my iPod as I hiked in the mountains.  Just me and Dido Armstrong.  One contemplative individual with another.  And as the album progressed I realized something was wrong, it was the difference between Fiona Apple’s first album and her second, between greatness and good enough, between something you couldn’t wait to listen to again and something you never needed to hear again.  I waited four years for this?

What am I saying here?

That I don’t understand release dates anymore.  When you can get the album weeks ahead online, why are we married to physical dates?  This album should have gone live on iTunes the day it appeared on the blogs.  If Metallica can forsake the first week mantra by releasing "Death Magnetic" on a Friday, why do we need giant first week SoundScan numbers?  So executives clueless in digital can slap each other’s backs as their business implodes?  It’s about the long haul.  And Metallica put out a good record, the band’s fans like "Death Magnetic", and as a result the collection has legs.

Why do I have to wait four years?  In the old days a misstep could be just that.  But now, by time Dido has another album, I could be dead.

Why do you have to change your sound?  AC/DC has proven this.  A formula is fine if it’s yours.  The Faithless sound of Dido’s first two albums was the underpinning of her career, it was the magic element.  Without it, "Safe Trip Home" is just another album for fans at best, for collectors.  You can’t e-mail a track and infatuate someone who’s not already indoctrinated.

There’s got to be a backstory here.  Involving romance, involving a fight.  Why did Dido work with Mr. Brion?  Couldn’t anyone have said it wasn’t working, certainly not well enough?

I could wait until I play the album more to weigh in.  But, I’m not sure I’m going to.  It’s far from awful.  The opener, "Don’t Believe In Love", is decent.  "Never Want To Say It’s Love" is growing on me.  I was enraptured by the lengthy final track, "Northern Skies".   But I wince at some of the cuts, and others do nothing for me.

But they’re gonna ramp up the machine and try to flog this album like it’s a key element in Dido’s canon, another cornerstone in her foundation.  But it’s an aborted side trip.  This is one of those rare situations where I’m glad I’m back in my flat, with the comfortable old numbers.

Dido, I want to see you again.  The old Dido.  The English chanteuse, not the SoCal wannabe.