We're All Somebody from Somewhere

The thread that binds is Tyler's enduringly impressive voice. [Sep 2016, p.95]

Much of Somewhere sounds remarkably consistent, even organic. Tyler, who co-wrote all of the album’s strongest material, proves a solid storyteller with a gift for melody.

We're All Somebody delivers high-sheen Billboard country fare, more Keith Urban than back-porch picking. [Sep 2016, p.81]

Away from the band which he made his name, the fingerprints of one of America's finest rock bands are present and correct. But away from the stripped down monster-balladry of It Ain't Easy, under his own wing Steven is capable of a few surprises. [6 Aug 2016, p.52]

A record that tries hard to please but never does because the labor is always too evident.

We're All Somebody does at times feel like three different albums simultaneously vying for supremacy, but, in an age of dwindling rock royalty, it makes a good case for Tyler's stack-heeled versatility. [Sep 2016, p.114]

Too often Tyler keeps his swagger in check when he could be kicking up some down-home dust.

Tyler and his collaborators manage to distill the alleged death of arena rock and its rebirth as modern-day pop country into a 55-minute runtime. Unfortunately, in equal measure, it's also a testament to the depths to which Tyler is willing to superficially pander in order to remain commercially relevant.

We’re All Somebody From Somewhere sounds like an album conceived as a therapy project, one in which all the interesting corners of Tyler’s persona have been neatly rounded off. There’s no pizazz, very little spirit, not much sparkle and no sex.

It starts very promisingly: the self-doubt expressed on the stripped-back opener My Own Worst Enemy is genuinely affecting, while Love Is Your Name boasts an irrepressibly upbeat chorus. I Make My Own Sunshine, meanwhile, might resemble a backwoods take on Catatonia’s Road Rage, yet it still possesses a certain charm. But the quality control suffers elsewhere.