The voice is still extraordinary. The ambition, however, doesn’t always match it.

For what was supposed to be Sam Smith’s most mature record yet, Hazel Eyes only partially delivers on the promise.

That isn’t to say Smith has made a bad album. Far from it. Hazel Eyes is warm, focused, emotionally sincere and, at its best, genuinely beautiful. But there is a frustrating distance between what this album wants to be and what it ultimately manages to accomplish.

Smith clearly came into their fifth album determined to move away from the more overtly pop-driven approach of Gloria, returning instead to the soulful, organic territory that defined much of their earliest work. Jazz, folk, blues, gospel and alternative pop seep into the arrangements, while Smith’s enormous voice is placed front and center.

It is, on paper, a fascinating direction.

The problem is that Hazel Eyes rarely pushes that direction far enough.

And no, Jeremy, there are no hazel eyes here. My eyes aren’t hazel either, so Sam loses points for false advertising.

I’m kidding. I’m kidding.

But the disappointment is real.

THE SOUND OF SOMEONE PLAYING IT SAFE

The first thing that stands out about Hazel Eyes is how restrained it is.

There is an undeniable warmth to the record. The production feels organic, expensive and deliberately timeless, with soulful instrumentation replacing the glossy pop maximalism Smith has previously leaned on. Choirs rise behind them, guitars provide texture, and the arrangements frequently give Smith plenty of room to demonstrate why they remain one of the most powerful vocalists of their generation.

When it works, it really works.

“Moondance” is the clearest example. Its funky, smooth instrumental and sharp guitar work give the record a jolt of personality, while the collaboration with Feist helps it feel like something outside Smith’s usual comfort zone. “When He’s Gone” also finds a compelling balance between atmosphere and songwriting.

Then there is “Oh Mother,” which sounds like it wandered into the album from an entirely different universe — an intimate 1980s jazz bar where the lighting is low and everybody is smoking despite the establishment’s strict no-smoking policy.

That kind of risk is exactly what Hazel Eyes needed more of.

Because too often, the production settles into the same lane. The album is consistent, yes, but consistency becomes a weakness when there isn’t enough contrast. The songs can begin to blur together, with one subdued soul arrangement bleeding into another.

The choirs are another example. Used sparingly, they can sound heavenly and add tremendous weight to Smith’s performances. But when they appear too frequently, their impact diminishes. At points, they feel less like an emotional accent and more like a mandatory ingredient.

The irony is that Smith’s voice is powerful enough that the album doesn’t need to constantly remind us how dramatic it can be.

Sometimes, the best production choice would have been to simply get out of the way.

THE LYRICS WANT TO SAY MORE THAN THEY ACTUALLY DO

Smith’s emotional instincts remain intact.

That has arguably always been their greatest strength. Whether singing about heartbreak, desire, insecurity or devotion, Smith knows how to make vulnerability sound enormous.

Hazel Eyes represents a major thematic shift, though.

Instead of primarily documenting the destruction of love, Smith is exploring what happens when love actually works.

That is a compelling idea.

There is something touching about the realization that finding the right person doesn’t mean becoming invincible. It means finally having somewhere safe to fall apart.

On the title track, Smith sings about finding “a place where I can fall apart” inside their lover’s hazel eyes. The sentiment is simple, but effective. Elsewhere, the image of an evergreen surviving through changing seasons becomes a metaphor for enduring love.

“Love Is A Stillness” attempts to take that concept even further, presenting love as stability rather than chaos — someone becoming the ground beneath you when everything else is moving.

These are worthwhile ideas.

The issue is that Smith sometimes stops at the idea rather than digging underneath it.

“Everlasting Love,” “Love Is A Stillness” and “Hold On” occasionally feel like vague diary entries rather than fully realized stories. The emotional intent is obvious, but the writing doesn’t always provide enough detail to make those emotions feel uniquely Smith’s.

That is where Hazel Eyes becomes a missed opportunity.

Smith is clearly trying to show us another side of themselves. They’re trying to document contentment, safety, domesticity, desire and the complicated emotions that accompany finding someone worth staying for.

But too many lyrics remain on the surface.

Compare that to “My Guy” or “Thief in the Night.” These songs don’t necessarily contain radically sophisticated writing, but they give us settings, characters, movement and narrative. There is something happening beyond the general declaration of an emotion.

That distinction matters.

Because saying “I am deeply in love” is one thing.

Showing us what being deeply in love actually looks like is another.

THE ALBUM’S BIGGEST PROBLEM IS ITS OWN COMFORT

There is something refreshing about an album that doesn’t believe emotional devastation is required to be meaningful.

Hazel Eyes is, surprisingly, an album about happiness.

Not uncomplicated happiness — there is still fear, longing, uncertainty and self-reflection — but happiness nonetheless. Smith sounds like someone who has finally found a place where they can stop running.

That is arguably the most mature thing about the album.

Unfortunately, the musical choices don’t always rise to the level of that maturity.

The opening stretch is arguably the album’s strongest. Smith sounds completely invested, the arrangements are tasteful, and the marriage between their vocals and the organic production feels convincing.

Then “Sugar Rush” arrives.

And suddenly, the wheels start coming off.

The song’s exaggerated energy and retro girl-group styling feel less like a natural extension of the album and more like Smith reaching for an idea that never quite lands. The choir becomes excessive, the lyrics become increasingly difficult to take seriously, and the album’s previously controlled atmosphere begins to feel messy.

There is an unfortunate pattern afterward: the more energetic the record becomes, the less interesting it can feel.

That’s a strange problem for a pop artist to have.

Smith is at their most compelling when they aren’t trying desperately to make a moment feel big.

THE VOICE IS NEVER THE PROBLEM

If anything saves Hazel Eyes from mediocrity, it is Smith themselves.

Their vocals remain consistently warm, powerful and emotionally convincing. Even when the songwriting becomes vague or the production starts to overreach, Smith can sell a line through sheer force of performance.

The harmonies and gospel-inspired elements also work particularly well when they’re used as support rather than spectacle.

This is still an artist who knows how to hit the heart.

And perhaps that is why the album can be so frustrating.

There is clearly a better record hiding inside Hazel Eyes.

You can hear it in “Moondance.” You can hear it in “My Guy.” You can hear it in “When He’s Gone.” You can hear it in “Oh Mother.”

Those songs suggest an artist capable of taking their familiar strengths — soul, vulnerability, massive vocals — and putting them into unfamiliar surroundings.

But the album too often retreats back into safety.

VERDICT

Hazel Eyes isn’t a failure.

In fact, calling it a weak Sam Smith album would be unfair. It is considerably more focused than that. The record has a clear identity, a consistent emotional thesis and several genuinely beautiful moments.

It also represents a welcome step backward toward the soulfulness of Smith’s earlier work after the more dance-oriented direction of Gloria.

But maturity isn’t the same thing as restraint.

An artist can become more mature without becoming less adventurous.

That’s ultimately where Hazel Eyes falls short.

Smith has found something interesting here: an album about the terrifying comfort of finally finding love, about surrendering to another person, about discovering that peace can be just as emotionally overwhelming as heartbreak.

They simply don’t explore that idea deeply enough.

The record gives us glimpses of greatness before retreating into the comfortable territory of adult contemporary soul-pop. The performances are strong. The intentions are admirable. The best songs are excellent.

But for an artist with Smith’s talent, “good enough” feels like a particularly frustrating destination.

Hazel Eyes is a good step in the right direction — but it is still only a step.

Best Tracks

“Moondance”

“My Guy”

“When He’s Gone”

“Oh Mother”

Weakest Track

“Love Is A Stillness”

Twelve tracks

1. Everlasting Love

2. Hazel Eyes

3. Moondance

4. My Guy

5. When He’s Gone

6. Thief

7. Love Is A Stillness

8. Sugar Rush

9. Oh Mother

10. Constant Companion

11. Hold On

12. To Be Free

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