“I’m the great lost record,” Richard Walters sings on the opening track to Regret Less, “King of Leaves”, and while that’s not entirely true, he does, however, manage to make a good case for himself. Walters’ subtle compositions are often enchanting, with lots of strings, lots of space and often executed through a few well-used building blocks with finesse. Most of the time he sticks to low-tempo songs that suit his taste for sparse beauty, but here and there he reveals a wilder side to surprise the listener. The very good “Blossom”, in particular, feels like such a big hit single moment (helped by Guy Sigsworth doing the production duties) that it almost feels a bit out of place among its more grounded companions. Yet at the same time, alongside “King of Leaves” it’s a great example of Walters’ potential as an artist and talent as a songwriter.
What falters Walters is a combination of multiple small things. As the album winds down, the more it gets swamped by simple ballads that possess only a fraction of the magic Regret Less offers at its best. The production is a bit too neutral for its own good, for lack of a better term — the album’s sound isn’t bad, but it feels a bit too precise and clinical for the atmosphere Walters often wants to evoke. There’s also Walters himself, who is a good lyricist and whose voice serves his music well, but for every moment he catches your attention, there is one where he accidentally fades into the background with his frail falsettos. Nothing too bothersome altogether, but as a combination, they let Regret Less down just a little bit from the expectations it manages to raise during its strong start. Not the great lost record, but a recommendable encounter nonetheless.