posted 02-17-2002 01:18 AM
Steady Pull
Jonatha Brooke
Bad Dog Records, 2001
46:35 (Buy it from Amazon)It would be easy to dismiss Jonatha Brooke as a flash in the indie pan, as someone who rode the coattails of albums like Shawn Colvin’s A Few Small Repairs to success among the public-radio crowd. Actually, it makes me wonder why some indie artists make it to semi-popularity (that is, popularity among music fans who, forgive my arrogance, go beyond MTV, VH1 and the center of the radio dial) and some really don’t. I discovered Melissa Ferrick via a friend’s music collection and have yet to hear of her anywhere else, be it alternative radio or used record stores. I’m still not sure if there’s much of an indie marketing machine, or if it’s really all about the talent.
Brooke’s latest, Steady Pull, is an album that, in ten years, we’ll be able to date as something that came out in the early zeroes, or perhaps the late nineties; it’s a disc that feels right in the moment, as if it’s the product of the musical influences of the last ten years and the tastes of today. If I made a movie that took place in 2002, I’d use Steady Pull as a soundtrack.
Perhaps most of this assessment stems from Brook’s voice, which sounds like a cross between Shawn Colvin and Ani DiFranco. “How Deep Is Your Love?,” the single that’s currently played in heavy rotation on my local public radio station, has a sliding, rising chorus that’s about as unrepresentative of the rest of the disc as Brooke can get. Much of her vocals are straightforward, with honesty in the tones and little failed experimentation. Brooke’s voice is an example of current female vocalists, and as examples go, it’s a darned good one, both in quality and representation.
Steady Pull starts out strong, with “Linger,” an upbeat, summery ode to the confusion of unconfirmed love. Brooke sings “I am leaving ‘cuz I love you, I am leaving ‘cuz I don’t/ And I am hoping you will follow, and I’m praying that you won’t/ Let me go.” The lyrics scream uncertainty and worry, but the rhythm speaks to part of us that loves that confusion.
She revisits that love-inspired gut-twitter in the album’s title track: “All my heroes disappeared, just like déjà vu/ But I am a strong swimmer, and I swam right into you.” This may be the strongest song on the disc, with its walking rhythm guitar and guest vocals by the baritone hum of Michael Franti.
(At the risk of sounding like a broken record, Colvin visits these same themes on her similarly titled premier disc, 1989’s “Steady On.” Coincidence? Probably.)
The least pleasant song on the disc is “New Dress,” which is made more tragic by the fact that it features Crowded House alum Neil Finn. “Red Dress” has a chorus that begs the listener to either press the “skip track” button or turn on the television and raise the volume as high as it will go until the next song. I also can’t tell if the lyrics are honest or ironic, which is something that always annoys me, because songs like that make the listener feel like he’s unhip for not knowing. When I listen to “Red Dress,” I feel like I’m 17 again, listening to Nirvana and hoping nobody will notice that I can't even begin to understand what the hell Kurt Cobain is saying.
But don’t let my unhealthy skill at negative description fool you; Steady Pull is definitely a disc worth owning.
[This message has been edited by Kevin Ott (edited 02-17-2002).]