October 22, 1990 is arguably the day one could say Mariah Carey’s career “began.” For that was where she performed her first live showcase at New York’s Club Tatou (just one of many clubs in that town that couldn’t last). This is why, in celebration of her thirtieth anniversary in the music business, Carey has decided to grace us with not a greatest hits or remix album, but instead, in her own Mariah way, an album of “rarities” a.k.a. formerly unreleased tracks, B-sides and “reworkings” from different phases of her decade-spanning career. A double album, the second “disc” (for those who buy tangibly) features The Daydream World Tour recorded live at the Tokyo Dome in 1996, designed to showcase that her vocal talent is also unparalleled live.
In discussing her inspiration to honor her career in such a way, Mariah noted, “Basically, I found stuff in my vault that I had either started to work on a long time ago and never released or that I wanted to finish mixing or do whatever. But they’re songs that have previously not been released.” To that end, while there’s no denying Mariah put her heart into the mixing, remastering and curation of these songs, it’s difficult to find any true sense of cohesion as the album plays without interruption. In point of fact, it rather reminds one of Amy Winehouse’s posthumous patchwork release, Lioness: Hidden Treasures.
Opening with “Here We Go Around Again,” we’re immediately transported back to Mariah’s “Emotions” era. For, try as the diva might to ignore it for the sake of her youthful self-perception, she was around long ago enough to not shake the undeniable 80s runoff sound that still remained in music in 1990, when her self-titled debut was released (as Mariah says, “We don’t acknowledge numbers, but we do acknowledge when it’s time for a celebratory moment!”–her barrage of “goodies” in the form of throwback offerings these past few months being a case in point). In many ways, “Here We Go Around Again” sounds like the sort of song that would’ve been used as a fake demo in Glitter. “The end of that was a little bit iffy,” Mariah critiques at the end–which is perhaps why the song never made it on the album.
Taking us to 1991 with “Can You Hear Me” (who is she, Barbra Streisand in Yentl?), the song begins with a cheesy piano intro that was rather popular in sonic trends during the early 90s (hear also: “This Used To Be My Playground” by Madonna). We’re given a peak glimpse into Mariah’s early flair for drama with the lyrics–as well as the source Christina Aguilera must have secretly gotten her inspiration for “Reflection” from the Mulan Soundtrack (the first one, obviously). With the musical sounds of the era punctuating the maudlin, Meat Loaf-worthy lyrics (maybe Celine D, if we’re being generous), there was perhaps a reason this one stayed in the vault for so long as well.
Advancing slightly to 1993, “Do You Think Of Me” (another needy title to complement “Can You Hear Me”) doesn’t do much to alter the frozen in time quality of these early 90s slow jams. With more lyrics worthy of the “new sincerity” that took hold in the Clinton decade, it was perhaps only in this era that she could get away with the likes of, “I wonder if you think of me somewhere in the shadows of your mind/Although our love could never be, I find I think about you all the time.” Even Prince would have difficulty making such sentiments “evergreen,” regardless of suffusing it with his usual brand of sexual chargedness.
In keeping with the phenomenon of the early 90s being still inextricably tied to the residual musical tropes of the 80s, “Everything Fades Away” features an intro reminiscent to Vangelis’ “Chariots of Fire,” yet not with quite the same level of memorability. Recorded during her Music Box period, Mariah laments that her lover is trying to make things right when she’s already decided to move on (sort of like Cardi B and Offset). Rather than trying to force something that has proven itself not to work, she declares, “Let it all fade away/Don’t you know that love is gone? It’s too late/Everything fades away/Nothing ever stays the same.” Surely she sent Tommy Mottola that memo as well. And then, Nick Cannon.
With that aphorism in mind, despite “All I Live For” being from the same year as “Everything Fades Away,” the former has the distinct R&B flavor that would come to define both Mariah and Boyz II Men as the 90s progressed. Ironically, the message of this track (intended for Music Box as well) also completely negates what was said in “Everything Fades Away” as Mariah assures her boo, “No baby don’t be so insecure/Nobody’s gonna steal my heart away/Just trust me/Our loving will endure.”
Not by 1995. As Mariah describes it, “One Night” was “an early collaboration with JD that both of us forgot about! Listed in the vault as ‘I Don’t Know’ because I didn’t know what to call it. It collected dust until we brought it back to life. I think it’s fun!” “Fun” indeed, as Mariah paints the portrait of a typical fuckboy: “It’s just another Saturday evening/He’s watching all the girls go by/He’ll find your body kind of appealing/So he hits you with his favorite lie/He’s looking you over/He whispers, ‘Lеt’s get to know each other bеtter, baby’/He’s moving in closer/But what you see may not be the entirety/So be wary.” In short, Mariah is saying: “Molly, you in danger, girl.” Her merciless depiction don’t stop there, however, as she continues to warn, “He’s just out for the one night/He just wants you ’til he gets his way now, baby, baby/So don’t gamble with your life/It don’t pay.” Elsewhere, we see RuPaul’s influence (even then) creep in with the word choice of “sashaying as the cars go by.”
The R&B flavor ramps up tenfold on “Slipping Away,” and gives a glimpse into a sort of precursor for “Breakdown” from 1997’s Butterfly. Easily applicable to her marriage with Mottola at the time, Mariah bemoans, “I keep denying that our/Our love is dying/But it’s all a big charade/And it’s a fruitless game to play/I can’t remember when you/You last were tender/And it’s always touch and go/The silence chills me to the bone.” Again, rich people still can’t be kept warm at night by their mountains of cash.
From ‘96 we jump quickly to the “new millennium” (as they were calling it back then with such hope in their voice–at least those who didn’t think Y2K was going to happen)–as though Mariah wants to shed the skin of that inaugural decade of her career as quickly as possible, preferring her “emancipation of Mimi” years for their greater musical relevance. Thus, we’re given “Out Here On My Own,” an odd choice as the second single to promote The Rarities, yet, for Mariah, a sentimental one as she won her first “trophy” for singing it when she was just a child. This, too, is why she chose to record it as part of the Glitter Soundtrack, yet it never made the cut. Incidentally, the track was co-written by Lesley “It’s My Party” Gore. The original queen of dramatic retellings in song before Mariah.
What would the Glitter era be without a nod to “Loverboy”? This is precisely why MC includes “Loverboy [Firecracker – The Original]”–called “Firecracker” in honor of the song it samples from–Yellow Magic Orchestra’s “Firecracker.” Here, the original recording sounds decidedly more confident and “comfortable in its own skin,” if you will. Alas, the legend goes that, in a V for vendetta maneuver, Mottola changed his mind about letting Mariah use the “Firecracker” sample, giving it instead to Jennifer Lopez for “I’m Real.”
Despite being written in 2005, “I Pray” has an undeniable Michael Jackson “Heal the World” meets Whitney Houston “Greatest Love of All” (better known as “I Believe the Children Are Our Future”) tone. And, in case you couldn’t guess, that’s not a good thing. Writing it for a twelve-year-old Hawaiian singer at the time, Carey thought she could channel “innocence” by offering, “Oh Lord I pray/Deliver us from bigotry and hate/Please give shelter to the wayward children/And comfort them and keep them safe.” So far, that prayer hasn’t really worked out and/or seemed to reach “God’s” ears yet.
Luckily, Mariah redeems herself again with the following track, “Cool On You.” Likely from the E=MC² era of recording, Carey brings back the much underused phrase, “Kick rocks,” in addition to feeling sorry for the man she’s now over as she sings, “Used to have my loving/But now you ain’t got nothing I’m cool on you/You’re in my rearview/Used to have my best/But now all that shit is dead.” So yes, the running theme of Mariah being known to be “cut you out of my life”-level done whenever she’s done continues to shine through here.
“Mesmerized” from 2012 is tinged with the 70s funk elements Mariah intended as part of the motif of Lee Daniels’ The Paperboy, for which the song was originally intended. And yet, a track as jubilant as this doesn’t really seem well-suited to the subject matter of such a film. “You want it, you want it, you want it, you want it” is sung in the same vein as “I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him” from “Loverboy,” with Mariah also incorporating her signature high note toward the end.
Going back to the notion that The Rarities has a certain Lioness: Hidden Treasures vibe in terms of non-cohesion, “Lullaby of Birdland” is peak Amy Winehouse-sounding as Carey “bwees” and “dwees” her way through this jazzy offering, performed live in promotion of 2014’s Me. I Am Mariah… The Elusive Chanteuse.
The strongest track (and lead single) from the record, “Save the Day,” is perhaps only so strong because of the Lauryn Hill/The Fugees/Roberta Flack sample it relies on. Without it, it would sound like just another iteration of Black Eyed Peas’ charity-esque track, “Where Is The Love?”
Wrapping up the rarities, B-sides and unreleased songs with the fittingly titled “Close My Eyes,” it’s interesting to note that Carey should use such a well-known track of hers to conclude. Originally from 1997’s Butterfly, this song is one Mariah has consistently stated is one of her favorites that she’s ever written (perhaps because it is among her most personal, therefore requiring no co-writers). Lent an even more resonant flair with the benefit of an acoustic version, Mariah discusses the pratfalls of growing up too soon (a reference to her childhood, complete with a drug-addicted prostitute sister) and yet how, despite all she’s been through, she still feels “like a child.” That much is manifest in the playful spirit that embodies her diva persona.
And it’s a comfort to know that, even after all these years, we can still see “the meaning of Mariah” is the ease with which she can sing any genre–even if some of the songs provided here as evidence of that might have been better off left in the vault.
