CD Odyssey Disc 1360: Melissa McClelland

Fun fact: I reviewed another Melissa McClelland album just 12 reviews ago. It often seems in the random draw of what I listen to next that once the dice (I roll dice to choose) have alighted upon one artist they seem drawn to roll them again soon after.

Or maybe my stupid human brain just likes to see patterns where there are no patterns.

Disc 1360 is…. Thumbelina’s One Night Stand

Artist: Melissa McClelland

Year of Release: 2006

What’s up with the Cover? It’s a thimble! I believe this is also an ancient hobo signal for a house where you could get your pants hemmed.

How I Came To Know It: I can’t remember. On previous Whitehorse reviews I’ve claimed I discovered the band first, and from there found the solo work of Doucet and McClelland. That can’t be right, though, because I knew Luke Doucet’s solo work from seeing him front Blue Rodeo. Frankly, I’m a little confused about the sequencing of the whole thing. Did I know McClelland first? Did I look her up after I saw her name in a Whitehorse record? I don’t know, and frankly my previous reviews of the various bands involved demonstrate I can’t trust my instincts on this one either. Let’s just say I got to know her music and Whitehorse all around the same time about five or six years ago. Or as I like to call it, “when in doubt, retreat to vaguer ground.”

How It Stacks Up:  I have three Melissa McClelland albums, and this is the best one. Gold!

Ratings: 4 stars

What a difference a couple of years make. Only last month I was reviewing Melissa McClelland’s previous album, 2004’s “Stranded in Suburbia” and bemoaning the lack of focus. Turns out I was bemoaning the wrong thing. “Thumbelina’s One Night Stand” has just as many music influences on display – folk, rock, pop, jazz/lounge – but it all comes together in a cohesive whole. It’s a thin line between lacking focus and having ‘range’ but McClelland lands squarely on the good side of that line here.

How that mystical line gets drawn isn’t an exact science, but I think it starts with ‘voice’., I don’t mean McClelland’s vocal prowess, although she is an exceptional singer; versatile enough to handle any of the previously mentioned musical approaches. However, it is her sense of self that feels fully realized on this record. Rather than trying different song styles on for size, here it feels like she just sinks naturally into them. She still tells stories full of character and narrative, but now there is a piece of her at the kernel of each tale, giving it depth and making it real

The record begins with a great character. On “Passenger 24” a morally suspect truck driver goes from town to town, high on cocaine, shamelessly and creepily hitting on girls on both sides of the age of majority. Pretty far from McClelland’s own experience, but she sinks right into this raccoon-shooting miscreant.

It’s McClelland’s song, but you may also know it from her first Whitehorse record with music and life partner Luke Doucet. That version exchanges piano for electric guitar but for all the extra wattage, it doesn’t make it any grimier. Their both good, but I’ll take McClelland’s solo version any day.

From that gritty bit of nasty, she switches to gears to a Portuguese factory worker (“Iroquois Street Factory”) where she juxtaposes a blue-collar factory worker with a lounge jazz style. It shouldn’t work, but again the inner truth McClelland brings to it (along with some great lyrics) holds everything together.

By song three, she’s shifted to contemporary folk music, again without any protest on the ears. Her voice smooth and a little mournful, as befits a song about loneliness and quiet despair. McClelland’s songwriting is natural and loaded with internal detail, her narrator seeing a world of decay all around, as she sings:

“Quietly the visitors escape

And I am left alone to recuperate

From a dire expedition

And a fiery rendition

Of a humble life

Brooding just beneath the varnished pine

The wicked smell of death and turpentine

Well I’d offer up a flower

But my intentions have grown sour

And my tears have dried”

Luke Doucet produces McClelland for the second straight time, here seems to have a much better handle on McClelland’s sound than on “Stranded in Suburbia”. Everything feels a bit more understated, letting her songwriting talent shine through. The instruments are nice and easy in the mix, with McClelland’s vocals the star of the show, as they should be.

The record is a who’s who of Canadian folk-rock icons. In addition to Doucet producing, he plays both his signature guitar and a slew of other instruments. Blue Rodeo’s Greg Keelor, plus Justin Rutledge and Sarah McLachlan all stop in to provide backing vocals. None of them overshadow McClelland, although there is one awkward moment where Keelor throws in a refrain of “strange and beautiful are the stars tonight” on “Skyway Bridge”. I think he meant the line, which is pulled from his hit “Lost Together,” as an homage to McClelland’s song. Instead it comes off as self-conscious.

My only other gripe is that at 16 songs and 69 minutes, the album is both too long, and has too many tracks, including a double appearance of “You Know I Love You Baby” (the second being distinguished as the “Jeff Trott mix”). Both versions are good, but they are similar enough in sound and style that one would have been sufficient.

This is a minor quibble on a record that is so thoroughly engaging and emotionally resonant. So much so that even though I was finished listening to it on Friday, I refrained from reviewing it all weekend just so I could come back and give it another listen today.

Best tracks: Passenger 24, Solitary Life, A Price To Pay, You Know I Love You Baby, Come Home Suzie