FRANKIE ROSE - Herein Wild

Those who leave the old road for the new know what they're leaving but not what they'll find: this old proverb could aptly describe the new effort from multi-instrumentalist Frankie Rose, and it wouldn't be far off the mark. Knowing full well what she'd be getting into by treading more familiar ground, the Brooklyn musician not only walks that path with even greater conviction, but seems to have no intention of giving it up at all.

"Herein Wild", her second solo album, arriving little more than a year after the excellent "Interstellar" from last season, is the product - the direct consequence laid bare on record - of exactly that choice. She's certainly not the first nor the last musician to cling to the clothes of a newcomer, but every decision has consequences, and in this case they're not the most satisfying. Call it the carbon-copy effect, or call these new tracks leftovers from the debut sessions: however you want to describe this new effort, bear in mind that the burst of inspiration that lit up the soundtrack to her recent interstellar journey is, here, ancient history. Perhaps it's a matter of misplaced expectations, but the disappointment this time round runs deep: hoping this isn't already the beginning of the end is about the least one can do.

As for anything new on the horizon, forget it. It certainly won't be some lifeless string arrangement or a more muscular rhythm section (her drumming past knocking at the door once again) that makes any real difference compared to the songs/non-songs of the previous record. Rather, once again at the centre of things are the dense dialogues between synths (now a firm rhythmic backbone, now atmospheric accompaniment) and jangly guitars, used here far more heavily and consistently than before: a sound that, despite its inherent predictability, still retains all its pliability and evocative power, with arrangements that remain a notable strength of the collection even this time round.

But when the songwriting - which, again, isn't really aimed at properly defined melodies - starts to falter, there are precious few excuses left. Rose's smoky voice, constantly drenched in reverb, lost in its own hypnotic languor, wanders almost aimlessly, with no riverbed to guide its course. In place of the climaxes of "Had We Had It", the pulse of the synthesizers here gives birth to washed-out progressions like the one in "Minor Times", while the killer guitars that propped up a track like "Night Swim" are replaced by the compositional fatigue of "Into Blue", a synth-jangle paradise that a suddenly listless Real Estate might have dreamed up.

Amid this parade of faded copies, is there anything left worth saving in the end? Precious little, it must be said. Between good ideas squandered with utter nonchalance (the melodic opening of "Cliffs As High" hinted at real potential), only the pairing of "Heaven" (energetic dream-pop that recalls Frankie's time in the New York garage scene) and "Street Of Dreams" (the most blatantly eighties track of the bunch, convincing despite - or because of - its full-on revivalism) offers more than a few fleeting moments worth noting. Not quite enough even to consider the possibility of a passing grade.

A real shame. Who knows whether a rebuttal, and renewed inspiration, might not be ready to arrive with her next work.

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google

14/10/2013