Paolo Nutini, Live Sessions

So, when I first came across Paolo Nutini’s inaugural Live Sessions EP, I had to ask myself: does the world really need another young guy who sings like an old guy? I mean, it feels like the music world’s seen several of those over the past couple of years, ranging from the geeky redheaded kid from American Idol to more mature revivalist heartthrobs like Michael Bublé and Jamie Cullum — haven’t we had enough?

I don’t mean to disparage Bublé or Cullum, by the by — having missed out on Frank Sinatra when he was alive, I myself enjoy Bublé’s is-he-serious-or-not? take on the Chairman’s schtick, and I caught Jamie Cullum’s live show not long ago and came away very impressed with his showmanship. It’s just that the pretty-boy singer (on Live Sessions, Nutini only sings, leaving the guitars to Donny Little and Ben Parker) who gamely steps into the limelight out of nowhere and whose voice quaintly reminds us of the music our parents used to listen to seems like it’s been done, by this point. It’s like the whole skinny-white-girl-belting-the-blues thing — out of all of the Joss Stones in the world, only a small, small handful are truly talented enough to be a Fiona Apple.

Luckily for Paolo Nutini, he makes the cut. I put on his Live Sessions EP as a scornful skeptic, figuring to have a cursory listen and then throw the disc on the pile, but then I found that I wanted to keep listening to it, over and over again. And sure, there’s a heavy dose of “hey, this is like what Dad used to force us to listen to in the car!” feel to the music — Nutini croons like a less-spaced Van Morrison or like Rod Stewart back before he looked leathery (which, yes, has been a while now), with a somewhat nasal, cigarette-cracked wail/murmur — but it works nonetheless. His vocals are expressive and unique enough that they suck me in every time, and that’s quite a feat.

More than the rough-edged nasal voice, though, the overall attitude is where Nutini shines. The kid (he’s apparently only 19) channels the spirit of the soulful crooners of yesteryear ridiculously well, managing to be both loose-limbed and tight at the same time. He’s laidback and relaxed, with an almost reggae-sounding delivery at points, but still slyly confident and brazen, whether he’s demanding that an older woman stay after learning how old he is (“Jenny Don’t Be Hasty”) or pleading gently with a lover (“Last Request”). Even when he’s low-key, as on “These Streets,” a rambling, folky, homesick ode to leaving the town you’ve known your whole life (Nutini’s Scottish, from Paisley, but relocated to the sprawl of London when he decided to give the music thing a real shot), he sounds less nervous than bemused, affirming at the end that yeah, he’ll get it eventually.

I should note, by the way, that Live Sessions is apparently just a quick first taste; Nutini’s debut full-length, These Streets, has already hit gold in the U.K. but won’t be released stateside ’til early in 2007. I’ll be keeping my eyes out for it, personally, because while some of his erstwhile peers are doomed to remain what they currently are, now and forever — Michael Bublé’s never going to release a drum-and-bass album, and really, that’s fine — Nutini is talented and lyrical enough that it feels like a big wide road’s opened up in front of him. After the third or fourth spin of this disc, I caught myself thinking, “damn, this kid could go anywhere.”