CD Odyssey Disc 624: Sarah McLachlan

I’ve really been jumping from genre to genre lately on the Odyssey. I went from the dark progressive metal of Tool to the light and upbeat indie pop of the Ting Tings. Now I am bumped to new age folk-rock with this next album.

Disc 624 is…. Touch

Artist: Sarah McLachlan

Year of Release: 1989

What’s up with the Cover? I assume this is what it would have looked like if Galadriel had kept the One Ring (her golden hair would look black in ‘ring vision’).  Take the ring off, Galadriel – the Dark Lord can see you!

Also what are those creatures drawn in corners of the art border? Up top they look like fat Dr. Seuss birds, and down below they look like overweight octopuses.

For all the kidding, I do like this cover, which has a nice magical quality. Bonus points to McLachlan for doing the ‘hand tinting’ to the photograph, which I assume accounts for the Morgul-glow it has.

How I Came To Know It:  I heard the song “Vox” on MuchMusic and I liked it, so I bought this album. I am one of those fans from the beginning when it comes to Sarah McLachlan.

How It Stacks Up:  We have five Sarah McLachlan albums (her first five) and I must reluctantly declare “Touch” the least of the bunch. Sorry, Sarah – something had to be last.

Rating:  2 stars

“Touch” is an album by an artist still struggling to find her niche. McLachlan would go on to not only release a series of excellent records, but also to almost single-handedly launch the power of the all-woman tour with Lilith Fair. Back at the beginning she was just a newly discovered ingénue trying to figure it all out.

First the good stuff, because there is plenty of promise on “Touch” of what would come later. McLachlan’s voice is a thing of beauty, and she controls it with the grace and authority of an opera singer. A lot of these songs are incredibly vocally demanding and she delivers them well when lesser talents would have gone sharp or out of breath.

The hit off this record (minor as it was) is “Vox” and it is easy to see why. McLachlan’s vocals deliver the lyrics in a mysterious and breathless way that would help define the greatness of her next record, 1991’s “Solace.” Also, the keyboard riff on “Vox” is a pretty cool pop hook that nicely offsets the new age feel of the rest of the song. Even the lyrics of “Vox” are solid, as they describe a dreamy but troubled relationship (everything with this record is dreamy in some way):

"Through your eyes the strains of battle like a brooding storm

You're up and down these pristine velvet walls like focus never forms

My walls are getting wider and my eyes are drawn astray

I see you now, a vague deception of a dying day."

Unfortunately, someone decided that there can’t be too much of a good thing and ended the record with an extended version of “Vox”.The extended version is only two minutes longer, but those extra two minutes pack in a lot of terrible choices. Worst of all is the weird percussion sounds at the beginning that reminded me of the Dead Milkmen’s “Instant Club Hit” except without any of the self-aware mockery. Not all music is made for dancing, and trying to force it only makes it worse.

The drumming and percussion decisions on “Touch” are generally annoying. I’m not sure if they are trying to evoke tribal sounds or new wave drum machines but they often manage to mangle them together into a Frankenstein’s monster of distracting noise. McLachlan is game to keep these songs stable, and with the evocative power of her voice she generally succeeds. Her only reward for rescuing the songs is to have her pushed even lower down in the production mix. It was like when they made this album they hadn’t yet figured out that McLachlan is the reason people would buy it.

I will say that the title track has very pretty New Age production, where the drums and keyboards serve the melody, rather than overpowering it. The song has McLachlan singing in a simple hymn-like fashion that had me thinking of Enya’s first two albums. It may be a bit too much like Enya, in fact, but since I like Enya’s early albums I have no complaints with a little honest emulation.

This mood is broken by more goofy percussion on “Steaming” and then two terribly named songs in “Sad Clown” and “Uphill Battle.” While not a great song, “Sad Clown” has passable lyrics which are not – thankfully – about some morose circus performer. “Uphill Battle” is an instrumental that desperately needs McLachlan’s vocal talents to rescue it from itself.

Kudos to McLachlan for sticking to a reasonable 10 songs rather than going overboard and I also like the cover design as I noted earlier. However, the lyrics printed inside are provided in an almost unreadable handwritten scrawl. It may give it an organic look, but a note to artists; if you are including the lyrics it is presumably because you want us to be able to read them. Keep that in mind when you choose a font.

I’ll end on an up-note with “Ben’s Song.” This song shows the promise of everything “Touch” could have been if McLachlan’s talents were fully utilized. “Ben’s Song” is a meditation of sorts on the death of a loved one. Not the actual death, but merely the agony of imagining it will one day come to pass – the kind of dream that is so real it gives your heart a pain that threatens to knock you over with grief.

The song begins with McLachlan singing in a high, keening chant that is so pure and ethereal that you’re sure she’s stepped right out of the world of faerie. The only instruments are bass and piano. McLachlan plays the latter, reminding us of her exceptional talent as a pianist as well.

"On the hills of fire, the darkest hour

I was dreaming of my true love’s pyre

Who will bring a light to stoke the fire?

Fear not for you’re still breathing

"On a winter’s day, I saw the life blood drained away

A cold wind blows on a windless day”

The lyrics made me think of an ancient Viking woman sending her husband off to Valhalla, and the song fades out with McLachlan repeating “on a winter’s day” with a haunting resonance.

“Ben’s Song” would be the perfect ending to this album, and when I remember to rouse myself from its spell in time I stop the record here. Unfortunately, the “Vox” extended version is what the record execs leave us with instead – proof that they just didn’t know what they were doing.

Best tracks: Vox, Touch, Ben’s Song