Beth Hirsch
Early Days
[Studio K7]
Rating: 3.3
In city squares and hazily lit coffee shops across the world, legions of Tracy
Chapman wannabes hunch over $60 acoustic guitars. They strum their anguish; they
flout accepted norms by exposing their shrubbery armpits; they blart out their
sanctimonious lyrics to overly liberal "free" thinkers, and; while they may be
selflessly fundraising for the local poultry orphanage, they all dream of being
spotted.
Beth Hirsch was spotted in a Paris café by two gentlemen who happened to comprise
the dreamy retro-chic band, Air. Nicolas Godin and Jean-Benoît Dunckel heard a
wonderful voice that evening. The beauty present in Hirsch's voice belies deeper
partials: by turns, she can be eerily evanescent, or injured but resolute. Hirsch
amply displayed these nuances in her gorgeous Moon Safari performances.
Early Days, however, turns out to be a poor showcase.
What Hirsch brought to Moon Safari was a humanizing of technology. Though
"Sexy Boy" managed a huge amount of rotation (after all, the vocoder wasn't half
as prevalent back in 1998 as it is today), the success of Air's debut album was
due to the juxtaposition of retro-futuristic technology and Hirsch's affectingly
humane voice. Though Moon Safari, in many ways, is elegantly kitsch, it is
ironically so. Air revel in the gap between the comic exotica of Les Baxter and
the Beauborg concrete of Pierre Henry. They also appreciate great pop, but that's
neither here nor there right now.
Away from such postmodern schemes, Hirsch has to situate her voice in settings
that will provoke favorable comparison with her winning contributions to Moon
Safari. Early Days signally fails in this all-or-nothing regard.
This album, barely over half an hour in length, bears the hallmarks of a barrel-
scraping reissue program. Across these thirty minutes, Hirsch describes windy
autumns spent by rivers with a man and Gabrielle ("Gabrielle"), and on "No
Refrain," compares flesh on the floor to bowling (no, really-- a definite Tori
Amos moment!). Such dour posturings are, naturally, accompanied by a delicate
acoustic guitar, refined cello lines, and a prissy piano.
So what is her label's motivation for releasing Early Days? I can't really
believe that the world has been holding its breath for a Hirsch solo recording.
Why the desperation? I could understand this release if Hirsch's songs revealed a
lavender eroticism like Sarah McLachlan's. But judging solely by Early Days
(isn't the title a thinly disguised apology-- why not just label this disc
Juvenalia?), Hirsch couldn't make it onto a Lilith Fair compilation,
even with her Air collaborations setting her apart from every other coffee house
balladeer.
It's not as though guesting on an electronic album hasn't worked in the past. Beth
Orton started out with William Orbit's Strange Cargo outfit, and rather than going
back to her acoustic beginnings, Orton successfully courted both the folkies and
the technoheads. Hell, even Everything but the Girl turned off the po-face just
in time to ride the deep house bandwagon.
Marketing this disappointing disc will be difficult-- the obvious audience will be
devotees of Moog mood chic, and they'll never stand for this. But those Tracy
Chapman wannabes in Harvard Square might find some sweet consolation. After having
lent their lungs to some modish electronic outfit, they, too, will be able to dine
off their self-righteous mediocrity.
-Paul Cooper