Breaking from the ties that bound her to
Ryan Adams
in her
Whiskeytown
days,
Caitlin Cary
's first full album (following her debut EP two years previous) is a beautifully realized, mature work that gently expands her boundaries while stubbornly playing to her strengths. Concentrating on her expressive, honeyed voice that falls somewhere between
Fairport Convention
's
Sandy Denny
and
Linda Thompson
,
Cary
, who co-wrote all the songs, washes her
folk
more on the British than American shores. Production by
Chris Stamey
, whose subtle approach perfectly frames these songs by placing the emphasis on
's marvelous singing, infuses the album with a languid, unhurried feel, giving it a comfy, low-key acoustic charm.
Caitlin
's violin, a major aspect of her
contributions, is relegated to the back burner in favor of unassuming
waltzes
songs, and
ballads
, most concerning matters of the heart. While a few upbeat songs break the mood, the somber tracks that dominate this disc remain on low-boil. This showcases
's gorgeous voice, but the disc often gets bogged down in emotionally gripping slow tunes that, while beautifully constructed, don't resonate with the drama their lyrics so poignantly express. More variety in the textures and tempos would make for a diverse setting to better feature
's stunning, heartbreaking vocals. The opening
"Shallow Heart, Shallow Water"
shows
's voice soaring against jangly guitar backing and her own violin. It's also the best and most immediately captivating track. Like her photo on the cover, the other songs blur into each other, producing an even, assured, and unified album that lacks the dramatic zing that could push it to the next level, which her obvious talent deserves. Early versions included a mini-disc of four additional songs (one a duet with
, another with
the Backsliders
'
Chip Robinson
) that are pleasant but not essential.
Robinson
Tom Waits
-style boozy rasp adds a much-needed gritty edge to
's overriding sweetness. ~ Hal Horowitz