Thursday, January 23, 2014

CD Odyssey Disc 587: Wild Strawberries

For the third straight review, this next album marks the end of the run for a particular artist.  I guess this means I’ve worked my way fairly deeply into the catalogue.

Not to worry, dear reader, with albums always being added at the front end the trip won’t end any time soon.

Disc 587 is….Quiver
Artist: Wild Strawberries

Year of Release: 1998

What’s up with the Cover? At first I thought this was just someone shaking (quivering?) a bit too much while holding the shutter open, but upon further review it is the head of lead singer Roberta Carter-Harrison mounted on a spring.  Surprise!  I sincerely hope this is a visual effect because the idea of her and hubby Ken actually having a jack-in-the-box of her head around the house creeps me out.  Or it makes me want to order one.  One of those.

How I Came To Know It: I really liked the Wild Strawberries first two albums, so I bought this one when it came out hoping for more of the same. Long-time readers of this blog will note that I do this a lot.

How It Stacks Up:  I have three Wild Strawberries albums, and like the last review of Supertramp, this is the worst of them.

And once again we find ourselves at the end of the line in terms of albums I own by this band, so here is my ranking of the discs I have in my collection:
  1. Bet You Think I’m Lonely: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 211)
  2. Heroine: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 311)
  3. Quiver: 3 stars (reviewed right here)
Rating:  3 stars

Darker is not always better, particularly with pop music, and so it was that “Quiver” was a bit of a disappointment for me when I first heard it. Then again, sometimes it just takes longer to get to know things in the dark.

The previous two albums by musical (and actual) couple Ken Harrison and Roberta Carter-Harrison were inspiring pop music.  1994s “Bet You Think I’m Lonely” and 1995s “Heroine” were both revelations for me musically, combining synth pop, undercurrents of R&B and haunt-rock reminiscent of bands like Concrete Blonde.  To this day I still pull these albums still get on the regular rotation in our house, while “Quiver” sits forgotten for long stretches.

This is a bit unfair, because having given this album its due for the last couple of days I enjoyed it more than I expected I would.

The strong writing is still present, and songs like “Trampoline,” “Minions” and “Concha Y Toro” all have great melodies and a catchy rhythm section to boot.  In fact, it is a shame that the album doesn’t start off with “Trampoline” which has a clever little ‘oh-wee-oh” vocal transitioning in and out of its blues verses and rock chorus.  I’m not sure what the hell it is about (I think the trampoline is a metaphor) but I enjoy the journey anyway.

Minions” and “Concha Y Toro” are the two songs that instantly appealed when I got the record back in 1998 and still appeal today.  They are both up tempo and a bit more rock-edged, while remaining firmly fixed in a pop style. 

Sadly, the album didn’t start with any of these songs, but instead with “Gotta Go” a formless mess of a song, obviously foundering in its own desire to layer on as much techno-beat as it can.  I don’t always hate a drum machine (other parts of “Quiver” use one admirably) but I sure hated one here. The fact that the chorus felt tuneless didn’t help any

While no other song on “Quiver” gave me the same negative experience, the fact that it is the first thing you hear on the record sets your ear in a bad place, and you find yourself waiting to hear more overdone club beats in other tracks. Sadly, they do show up in places, with “Speak of the Devil” and “You Could Be So Cold” both feeling overly cold with all the aimless synth.  “Pretty Lip” and “I Guess You’re Amused” are good songs at their core but I didn’t love the overly club-like treatment they get either.

Which is not to say that this stronger techno sound is always bad – and hearing this record on headphones (possibly for the first time) also helped.  “32” and “Blunt” work beautifully with their techno beats, which helps give these songs the sadness and detachment they need.  Both songs would work with nothing but Roberta’s voice and an acoustic guitar (Roberta – I’m available) but the electronic approach definitely works.

While “Quiver” will never be my favourite Wild Strawberries album, I still enjoyed it, and I’ll try to work it into more listens knowing that like a jack-in-the box it is jarring at first, but eventually vibrates its way into your heart.

Best tracks: Trampoline, Minions, Blunt, Concha Y Toro, 32

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