by Dean Van Nguyen   
Mon:14-May-07
Laura Veirs
Saltbreakers
by: Dean Van Nguyen
Mon:14-May-07
Label: Nonesuch
Year: 2007
WB rating
55
out of 100


Review
Had Laura Veirs never picked up a guitar, she probably would have become a poet, performing in front of small audiences in coffee houses all over her home state of Seattle; her lightly accented voice intoxicating those who hear her gentle words. Fortunately music became her calling and gave her a platform for her beautiful lyrics.

Veirs’ early work revolved around acoustic strums, gentle accordion, the haunting twang off an electric guitar and the occasional banjo. Her finest album to date, The Triumphs & Travails of Orphan Mae, was a dreamy journey through middle America; the light arrangements playing second fiddle to Veirs’ most engaging and engrossing instrument: her voice, which she used brilliantly to convey her surroundings. These stripped down arrangements allowed this voice to guide the listener, giving them everything they need to know about Laura Veirs, folk songstress.

Enter producer Tucker Martine with his band, and budget, to inject some good old fashioned pop sensibilities to Veirs‘ music. It was a mix of dressed up arrangements and acoustic subtlety that helped make 2005’s Year of Meteors one of the best albums of that year. A shame then, that Saltbreakers, album number six, is the sound of an artist who has hit a creative wall; someone who has failed to connect with the essence of their own songs; forgotten the smaller details, the things that made them great in the first place. Martine is back, but instead of providing arrangements that compliment Veirs’ gentle style, he’s flooded her canvas with smidgeons of electronica, annoying handclaps and full choirs which mostly drowned out the artists intriguing delicacies.

For instance, ‘Don’t Lose Yourself’ utilises some bizarre Kid A-esque drumbeat which clashes badly with the song’s whimsical melody. ‘Drink Deep’ conceals Veirs natural charm under a layer of studio echo effects and trickery, while ‘Phantom Mountain’ is a misguided stab at indie energy, a genre beyond her range as a vocalist. Veirs may be attempting to broaden her sound, but it’s at the expense of her strengths.

Sonically, Veirs and Martine have gone for a more consistent sound than Year of Meteors, so out goes even a switch between the full and the sparse. In fact, while her folk roots are still visible, few of the songs here actually fit the typical characteristics of this genre. Still, there are moments when everything comes together; ‘Nightingale’ is right up there with Veirs’ best; a rare moment when she isn’t stumbling over the production, but when every element beautifully comes together. To Veirs’ credit many of the album’s better songs sound as though they could have easily slid into Year of Meteors. Opener ‘Pink Light’ rings with familiarity; the swirling, finger picked electric guitar bringing back memories of ’Fire Snakes’. ’Ocean Night Song’ floats along nicely before being elevated by a twisted string section. While the stripped down arrangement of ‘Wrecking’ acts as a reminder of pre-major label glories.

But the highlight comes late in the album with the doomed piano chords of ‘Black Butterfly’, wisely only complimented by the bluster of a saddening breeze. This tender, intrusive look into Veirs’ soul sounds like the product of a sleepless, reflective night. Her better songs have always leaned towards a darker edge and ’Black Butterfly’ is right up there with the best of Veirs’ back catalogue.

Unfortunately the rest of the album lags in mediocrity. Tracks like ‘Cast A Hook’ and ‘Wandering Kind’ are largely unmemorable, bland for a songwriter as talented as Veirs. Her once engrossing poetic lyrics are now overshadowed by overcooked production and weak melodies.

And so an essential artist has made an unessential album. Saltbreakers is the sound of Veirs taking risks, stumbling nervously to full sized bands and choirs, still discovering who she is, or perhaps, who she wants to be. With folk music looking so healthy these days, now more than ever, I miss Laura Veirs.





 
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