Joan As Policewoman To Survive by: Thomas Mendelovits Tue:15-Jul-08 Label: Cheap Lullaby Year: 2008 WB rating 75 out of 100

The Edge: the idea that, for an artist to be credible, they need to walk the edge.

No, not the delay-loving, Bill Bailey-derided, stadium-filling guitarist of U2 fame, but the metaphorical precipice: the idea that, for an artist to be credible, they need to walk on this edge. On one side is critical acclaim, career longevity and perhaps a few album sales. Fall off it though, and you plunge into an abyss of eternal MOR-dom made up of appearances on Live at the Basement and slots on music festivals held at country vineyards. On To Survive, Joan as Policewoman, Joan Wasser, treads precariously on the Edge. There is none of the self-loathing, icy cool or world-weariness predicted by her status as Jeff Buckley’s Ex (‘Everybody Here Wants You’ was written about her) or her role as Antony Hegarty’s violinist, though perhaps there shouldn’t be. Credentials and expectations merely detract from one’s first, often most truthful, impressions. Instead, recalling Norah Jones as much as Hejira-era Joni Mitchell, Joan as Policewoman continues the tradition of the piano songstress. And with To Survive she proves that one of music’s most potentially yawn-inducing formulas is still relevant.

“BEAUTY IS THE NEW PUNK ROCK” runs the tagline on Joan as Policewoman’s MySpace. It’s as if she is sentient of this potential critique of her music, which in its soft jazzy poppiness, is certainly beautiful, but certainly not punk rock. The artist/band name is apt: basically, Wasser polices her soul. It may be read as a feminist statement, but on To Survive, she regulates others’ (namely the old cast of ex, current and potential lovers) impact on her soul. As Policewoman, Wasser plays a lot of the standard love-song roles: maternal bedside comforter (‘To Survive’), negotiator of terms (‘Honor Wishes’), and dizzy romantic (‘To Be Loved’). While reified of expression, Wasser’s writing has enough of the kind of gently lulling truth-creation that this balladry needs to avoid cliché. The accompanying instrumentation is lush, unpretentious and just dramatic enough. The catchiest track, ‘To Be Loved’ features a little horn action, some funky guitar and driving piano. Across To Survive, you only really hear these flourishes after she has finished singing. It’s as though only in her absence do we fully realise the songs’ fragile messages.

To Survive is a concept album of sorts. Some of the songs come in pairs, as if Wasser is concerned with providing a truthful overview to the by-turns wary and hopeful feelings she presents across the record’s 10 tracks. As such, ‘To Be Loved’ has its downbeat counterpart in ‘To Be Lonely’, which casts Wasser as the cautious idealist to ‘To Be Loved’s dizzy romantic. After the one-line opening mantra of “I’m so happy to be loved” on ‘To Be Lonely’ she suffers the invariable come down, trying to convince herself to stick it out in repeating: “this is the one/I’ll try/to be lonely with”. This dualistic approach suits Wasser well; as Joan she is Every Woman, but as Policewoman, she fulfils her obligation as messenger of justice and keeper of the peace.

It’s all to easy to find one’s self cautious against this kind of emotionally unguarded music, but if you do allow Wasser’s admittedly generic voice to unfurl you may just be ensconced by these every woman stylings. The jazz-pop diptych of ‘To Be Loved/Lonely’ may be the standout bookend to the record, if not for ‘Start of My Heart’— the one song that really marks the album as one of beauty and meaningful emotional rigour. Set to spacey synths and pulsating deep bass, every line Joan sings is a disembodied ramrod straight out of her soul: “you changed me… and taught me/the damage I’ve done/can show me the way to my heart”. It is starkly simple and tremendously beautiful, but also quite dangerous stuff. Like the oldest, but most anonymous, folk songs, Wasser proves a master here in succeeding against all odds in making the very general sound very real: “origami doll/I wonder if you’ll do it again/please do it again/I thank you for the start of my heart”. Though they will be ashamed to admit it, the best tracks of To Survive should be added to many a post-Friday night playlist, when something soft is needed to soothe the frazzled nerves of lovelorn Gen Y-ers.