Andy Shauf, Bria, and Jill Barber
Andy Shauf
Norm // Arts & Crafts
Over the years, Andy Shauf has faithfully provided his fans with rich concept albums that bloom like flowers over their runtime, weaving often melancholic but relentlessly relatable narratives. Shauf has always asked a lot of his listeners, especially as our attention spans continue to wane with each passing day, but Norm pushes it a little further to great effect. In the past Shauf has written relatively straightforward narratives that favour emotional complexity over thematic intricacy. This time around, Shauf drew inspiration from 90’s auteur cinema and spun a dark and surreal tale with themes of love, longing, hope, voyeurism, shame, and more.
When the pandemic gave Shauf the chance to slow down, he became fascinated with Mullholland Drive and Lynch’s surreal narrative style – and so Norm was conceived. In the most cynical interpretation, Norm plays out like a 90’s erotic thriller. Dark undertones lay beneath an idyllic and sanguine atmosphere. On its surface it’s easy to miss the shadowy themes that pin it down - Shauf’s sonic instincts are as playful and lively as ever, which only serves to disguise its dark nature. As you listen to this album a second, third, fourth time, its sinister nature starts to show.
Norm has all the markings of a classic Shauf record. The production uses his soft touches to build a rich ocean of tone that wraps around you like a warm hug. 70’s synths bounce and sparkle playfully alongside lively, yet gentle jazz percussion. Shauf’s guitar playing is agile as ever, the perfect accompaniment to his playful melodies and unmistakable vocal eccentricities. But as Shauf enters veteran status, he has asked us to grow alongside him as he explores new narrative territory. In the end, Shauf rewards us for the extra effort and proves that he is capable of remaining true to his style while continuing to develop his tastes as a writer. Norm is a shining example of Shauf’s writing talent and confirmation that he isn’t going stale anytime soon.
- Clay Geddert
Bria
Bria // Sub Pop
Bria’s Cuntry Covers Vol. 2 is an album “led by the brooding vocals of Bria Salmena.” It’s a memorable album that pays glorious tribute to each original song she covers. Her “deliciously dark approach,” makes the album beautiful and memorable. As Bria herself says, “There’s a lot of chaotic energy to it.” The album is absolutely stunning - featuring dynamic vocals, raspy sad songs, and poppier versions of the songs she is inspired by.
“Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?” is a poppy start to the album. Although it is similar to Paula Cole’s original version, the vocals set the songs apart. Cole’s version features more acoustic guitar, and more distorted vocals, Bria’s version is full of echoes, groovy saxophone, and yearning. The song is not simply about looking for a cowboy, it’s a song about looking for another life - where babies are on her mind. The song is energetic in a way that Cole’s is not. Cole’s version is certainly innovative, and Bria keeps that in mind while covering the stunning song.
“By The Time I Get to Phoenix,” is a song originally performed by Johnny Rivers. The original and Bria’s version both feature heartbreaking vocals, Rivers’ version features the same beautiful sadness that Bria tries to recreate. Bria’s voice is deep and raspy on the track. It is a song that proves that the speaker knows the behavior of the woman they have left behind. It’s a song about travel - mentioning stopping at Baltimore, and various other places, while the speaker guesses what their lover is doing. The haunting lyrics turn up this gem: “she just didn’t know/that I would really go.” A haunting and melancholy song to be sure, but one that is memorable and beautiful in both the cover and the original.
“See You Later, I’m Gone,” is a song originally performed by Robert Lester Folsom. His version is twangy, raw, and features heavy drum sounds. Bria’s version features a small group of people singing in unison, and it emboldens the song. It’s a painfully sad song, where the “summer sun is growing dim.” It’s a beautiful and sad ending composed of songs that define the qualities of the last track. The song is about departure, and seeking solace in a safe place, which happens to be far away from their lover. A truly dreamy track. The song is also moving, and easy to sing along to. The cymbals near the end help create closure.
Each song on the album is positively arresting. And while each song is radically different vocally, the songs all fit together beautifully. One cannot help but become fully immersed in the dystopia that the album creates. Country songs can be one dimensional, but this album is dynamic, and emphasizes the many sides to country. Digging deep into the beauty of the purest sadness, this album leaves a big mark. The songs are catchy, energetic, and very clever. Bria’s approach to the album is perfect. She makes every song sound effortless, easy even, but the content of the songs are anything but. As the album progresses, one truly wonders where all the cowboys have gone. Not every country album can boast that soulful vocals, groovy percussion, and atmospheric anthems are an integral part of Bria’s work. Songs about domesticity, traveling, and longing fill the album with such beautiful emotion. A thoroughly researched, replicated, and simultaneously unique album awaits every listener.
- Kyra MacFarlane
Jill Barber
Homemaker // Outside Music
Jill Barber has let curiosity be her navigator through a couple of decades in Canadian music: following that trait has led her to French-language albums and excursions into jazz. Now on Homemaker, curiosity has led her to spend time on both sides of the studio glass.
Barber’s 11th record and her first English-language album since 2018’s Metaphora, Homemaker marks a major shift in sound. From the heavily-produced sounds of Metaphora, Barber’s moved to a much more acoustic sound on Homemaker, which chronicles her move from, as she describes it, “going from playing Massey Hall to sweeping a messy hall.”
Homemaker was co-produced by Barber with Erik Nielsen, and the sound of the record is close without being claustrophobic — not small, but intimate. Careful ears will feel as if they’re in a rehearsal room or a living room listening to Barber and her musicians, which included Paul Rigby (who also plays with Neko Case) and Geoff Hicks (perhaps best known for his work with Colin James.)
The instrumentation is what you would expect of a folk/Americana flavoured album, with acoustic guitars up front, but with some interesting and unusual (but subtle) choices on percussion. The production ensures that Barber’s voice is appropriately foregrounded here; this is very much a singer-songwriter record and to bury the lead vocals in the instrumentation would have been a grave error that Barber and Nielsen avoid.
The songs, written by Barber with co-writers including Maia Davies, Susie Ungerleider and Emma-Lee, are strong and cohesive. They are simultaneously domestic, romantic and unabashedly feminist — something Barber fans should be used to. Barber’s forthrightness about that last is probably easiest found in “Hell No”, which begins with the verse:
“Who says you gotta cross your legs
Who says you gotta shave ‘em
Who says you better not count your eggs
Who says you can’t just break ‘em”
and moves to the chorus
“And all my life I’ve been told
To be a good girl, it’s what I’ve bought and sold
Well I say hell no to twice the work and half the pay
I say hell no, it’s time I get my own damn say”
This is not a record that goes for the easy thematic choices of ‘I’m in love’ / ‘My heart is broken’ / ‘Something’s wrong in the world’. Homemaker is
Barber’s voice is an unusual one, with a throaty quality in the low end and a fast vibrato that sets her apart from many of her compatriots. It may not be for everyone, but her following and her shelf of awards and nominations suggests that both her voice and the words she sings have found a lasting place on the music scene.
I suspect Homemaker is going to be listened to by a lot of women trying to balance relationships, children, and career (perhaps within the small windows of time available to them between items on their to-do lists). It deserves to be listened to by them, as well as by a much broader demographic, and I hope it’s listened to by at least some of those folks as a single piece of work rather that a song at a time. The creative work put in by Barber and Nielsen deserves that attention.
It would make an interesting double play to contrast “Homemaker” with Caroline Marie Brooks’s 2022 album “Everything at the Same Time”, to examine how two mid career women musicians are struggling, succeeding, and coping with the demands of family life mixed with the very different demands of a career in Canadian music.
- Bob LeDrew
