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NZ Herald ::
Brooke Fraser,
Dean Chandler & Ben King
November 15
2003, By Russell Baillie
That sighing sound you hear is the nation
falling for Brooke Fraser, the best-tressed newcomer in New Zealand music, just
as they fell for Bic Runga and Anika Moa before her.
And also slipping out at the same time are
debut albums by two other singer-songwriters, though ones who aren't likely to
be setting the country's heart aflutter quite as much, mainly because they're
blokes. Advice to aspiring guy singer-songwriters planning solo careers in this
country: Sell guitar. Learn to rap.
There are connections between the three -
Fraser's American producer Brady Blade is also one of the producers on
Chandler's album; moonlighting Goldenhorse guitarist King is credited with
guitar and backing vocals on a few tracks of Fraser's album and among the
albums' many local musicians, common to all three is keyboardist Godfrey de Grut.
There are some long-bow connections as well. If
one or two of Fraser's songs, like the double-bass and piano-framed whisperer
Without You, would seem to have one ear on Norah Jones, then there's Jones
herself playing piano on Chandler's She, possibly his best offering.
And if the chorus of that one can sound like
the late Gram Parsons song of the same name, then there's Parsons' one-time
singing partner Emmylou Harris adding her backing vocals to I Feel Love up near
the front.
It seems Chandler has a gift for guest-star
recruitment - both women were roped in while on tours here. If they add some
touches of class, they also become a talking point because the album, while
stylishly produced and solidly arranged, feels oddly bereft of personality.
There are plenty of songs of earnest verse
leading into anthemic chorus which could be filler on the albums of a David Gray
(especially opener Waiting) or a Robbie Williams (see It's Not Too Late). But
with Chandler's platitude-heavy rhyme-dictionary lyrics and nondescript, if
pleasant, voice, this feels more like a set of genre-hopping songwriting
exercises. Skilful but dull.
Parts of Fraser's album can veer towards the
generic, too, especially on the string-laden, piano-powered opener Arithmetic,
the overwrought finale Mystery or the funkpop excursion Still in Love (which
suggests "the new Bic Runga" also has designs on being "the new K'Lee").
But elsewhere it's hard not to be enchanted by
her breathy, sinuous voice, the pop-elegance of the tunes, the sometimes awkward
heart-on-sleeve lyrics and the warmth of the arrangements.
That's especially true of her first and second
singles Better and Lifeline, the aforementioned Without You, the torch-reggae of
Reverie, the intimate balladry of Indelible and Scarlet.
An impressive first outing and if the country
is falling hard for Fraser - her album went straight to number one this week -
it would seem she has the goods to sustain the relationship.
And finally to King whose solo effort could
hardly be described as a radical departure from the folk-poprock approach of
Goldenhorse, the artful Auckland band in which he's a guitarist and one of the
songwriters.
What's infectious here is King's own obvious
affection for delivering songs of a neatly askew pop sense, whether it's the
summery jangles of Singing in My Heart, No Ordinary Day and Freya's Fantastic
Surprise, or the unsettling but beautiful ballads of Lavender or Potemkin.
The cover of One Step Ahead - one of Split Enz'
less-enduring hits - is a bit of a mood-shatterer.
And the tracks get a little indistinct around
the closing stages, complete with that perpetual irritant, the
late-arriving-but-loud hidden track.
But King's excursion is a thoroughly likeable
album that will help to prevent wear and tear on those treasured copies of
Goldenhorse's great debut, Riverhead.
It also suggests on the band's next album, they
could do a Kiss - give everyone a side each and let 'em go for it.
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