Carla Bruni sings and my brain turns to mush.

I'm listening to Carla Bruni's second album, entitled No Promises. While her first release, Quelqu'un m'a dit, is sung entirely in French, this release, with lyrics from the poetry of Yeats, Emily Dickinson, Dorothy Parker and others, is sung in English. I like it a lot.

Where Quelqu'un m'a dit sounded very fresh and exotic to this unilingual American's ears, 2007's No Promises, while quite beautiful, sounds more like Margo Timmins of Cowboy Junkies singing with Jack Johnson's band. That's not criticism; these songs on No Promises make for quite the escape from the noise and clutter of day to day life. If it's solace and beauty you're seeking, then you can't go wrong here. There are many rich pleasures waiting within Carla Bruni's breathy interpretations of these classic American and British poems.

Still, for me, there's just something about a gal singing in French...