JENNIFER O'CONNOR The Advocate Review

.... From The Advocate Aug 26, 2008

Lead music review


Here With Me

Matador Records

Headline: A Calm Voice
In an era of over-the-top, eclectic female vocalists, out singer-songwriter Jennifer O'Connor is a welcome break
by Kurt B. Reighley

"What the world needs now/Is another folk singer/Like I need a hole in
my head." So sang David Lowery of Cracker, on that band's 1992 radio
hit "Teen Angst." Substitute "female singer-songwriter" for "folk singer" and
you have a succinct – albeit politically incorrect – summation of the
dilemma that has faced music critics for ages (or at least since
Lilith Fair). In a marketplace teeming with earnest young women of
wildly varying degrees of musical talent, what distinguishes a
relative unknown like Jennifer O'Connor?

Quite a lot, as it turns out, if the fourth full-length from this out Brooklyn, N.Y., resident is an accurate representation.

The
first thing one notices about Here With Me is O'Connor's voice. Hers is
remarkably ordinary and anything but quirky. Her vocal timbre rests in
a comfortable middle range, featuring minimal vibrato; she eschews
guttural howls or operatic swoops. On the handful of quieter cuts,
O'Connor sounds like she is sitting beside the
listener, yet not whispering secretively in his or her ear. Her intimacy is honest, not staged.

That steadiness in her voice, makes her lyrics, simple as they often are,
believable, even when the words aim to undermine the confidence she radiates.
On "End of the Hall," she admits "when I think that I know something for sure/I'm
usually wrong."

Her assurance permeates the arrangements too. Working
with producer John Agnello (Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr.), O'Connor and
her band have crafted vibrant settings for each of the twelve
selections, from the crackling rock of "Daylight Out," to "Days Become
Months," a wistful number in waltz time featuring accordion by Franz
Nicolay of The Hold Steady. Consequently, ditties that revolve
around finger-picked acoustic guitar and gentle dynamics pop out of
the mix, rather than getting lost in the shuffle. On "Landmine,"
O'Connor even executes a beguiling bait and switch, starting off soft
and building to a gorgeous climax of cascading white noise.

Most impressive of all, O'Connor accomplishes all this on
an album composed primarily of love songs. There are exceptions, like the tart
kiss-off "Xmas Party," but overall, the program is dominated by tunes
inspired by the affection of and for her girlfriend. From the
opening assurances of "I won't let you go" ("The Church and the
River") to her admission that "I keep falling in love every day with
you" ("Next To Mine") she brings the same unvarnished honesty that
colors everything else she does to the oldest subject in pop. And it
works.