Once a guitarist, singer/songwriter and occasional drummer for
indie-pop bands The Softies and Tiger Trap, Rose Melberg uses her
second solo album to branch off in a different direction with a
lush and humble sound that is all her own.
The production is similar to a lot of current
singer/songwriters: a prominent acoustic guitar center with light
piano, violins and flutes, the movement being guided almost
entirely by the voice and the melodies.
“Cast Away the Clouds” fits the mold just enough to
be approached as pop music, but capitalizes on small variations in
chords and melodies so it avoids blending in, and is never
predictable. “Four Walls” represents just one of these
types of tracks, dipping at the chorus to keep listeners on their
toes, and then floating between verses to the tune of a flute as in
a traditional folk song.
The subtle surprises are reflected in the lyrics as seen in
“Irene,” which features a swinging waltz rhythm which
Melberg contrasts with lyrics that narrate dejection and
heartbreak. But even with these darker themes, the sound remains
light and enchanting.
Throughout the album, she uses this tactic to pull a delightful
little trick, establishing a sense of empathy with her pain but, as
each track ends, creating a better, more optimistic mood.
These twists in Melberg’s style can make it a little
difficult to latch onto the songs at first, but they contribute
more to the album than detract from it.
The same cannot be said, unfortunately, for the vocal
production. Melberg layers her voice on top of itself from
beginning to end, opening the album by cradling listeners with her
warm, breezy harmonies. But the soothing effect works its way to
being overdone by the midpoint, and then eventually to soporific as
the album nears its end.
There is some redemption with the uplifting “Your
Tears,” followed by the closing track “Each New
Day,” which features a refreshing piano instead of the
now-exhausted sound of the guitar. Melberg delicately weaves her
voice into the instrumentation, cleverly narrating the familiar
story of an absent dream lover from the perspective of an
insomniac. As the chorus kicks in, the song loses part of its
beauty just because it resembles all that preceded it, but still
holds echoes of potential.
So while the cloud has not been completely cast away, Melberg
holds onto a silver lining, and produces an album worth at least
enough listens to incite anticipation for what she’ll come
out with next.
E-mail Puri at kpuri@media.ucla.edu.