Categories : Country + Western, Folk + Roots, Music Reviews.
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Rating: 3 / 5 Reviewer: David Coats |
Amy Millan’s first solo release, 2006’s Honey From the Tombs, was a stylistic surprise, as she seemingly turned 180 degrees from her Stars and Broken Social Scene gigs, and made a record of lonely, weary country songs. Though she did more or less pull it off, there was an unavoidable feeling that she was trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It won’t come as a surprise, then, that her sophomore release, Masters of the Burial, is a logical artistic continuation of her first record that is best described as modest progress.
Millan has one of Canada’s best voices, but again it is somewhat muted in these songs. These for the most part aren’t country songs, and with the exception of closer ‘Bound,’ which would have been a perfect HFTT b-side, the songs are more introspective and metaphorical, with brass-tinged opener ‘Bruised Ghosts’ and lead single ‘Bury This’ ranking with her best work. The arrangements alternate satisfyingly between the complex, with full brass and string sections, and the strikingly simple, with just one instrument. The stylistic contrast is important, because the consistency of the songs and Millan’s voice throughout tend to make things run together. Also a concern is the songs with minimal accompaniment rely on many of the same elements as HFTT did, mandolin flourishes at the end of verses, for instance.
Listeners may wonder about her sense of confidence in her writing, as four of the eleven tracks are covers. Some work well, particularly the regretful sweep of Weeping Tile’s ‘Old Perfume’; others don’t work so well, such as Death Cab For Cutie’s ‘I Will Follow You Into the Dark,’ which, ironically, is the only song on this record that couldn’t be called a ballad. Making it the record’s most upbeat song and using a full arrangement as opposed to the original’s tender sparseness doesn’t capture the song’s emotion well. It’s more effective as a ballad among non-ballads, than as a non-ballad among ballads.
This record feels more deliberate and natural; less like Millan is trying to fit a pre-determined concept. There is, however, a big difference between comfort and confidence. For example, the reason fellow BSS member Feist’s The Reminder was such an improvement on Let It Die was that Feist grew so much in her song writing and her performance, allowing her to be exceedingly vulnerable while appearing totally secure in her identity and message. Millan appears to be taking longer to assert herself. To that end, this record is a step forward, but a modest one.
Millan is an artist to keep an eye on, and not just for her voice and her contributions to some of Canada’s best bands, but because she’s still figuring out her identity as an artist, and even if that process moves a little more slowly than we’d like, the potential is there.
