Number 4 of 2006 — Charlotte Martin: Stromata
Charlotte Martin’s major label debut album
On Your Shore was perhaps the first evidence of a singer / songwriter diverting from the path begun with
Tori Amos, whilst retaining focus on the piano. At that time other contemporaries were choosing to exploit their diverse instrumental skills for their USP, but with
On Your Shore Charlotte rummaged through every nook and cranny of potential, to produce a nursling that was instantly likeable and stood out amongst the dozens of diluted Tori facsimiles.
Stromata grows on this and in turn Charlotte delivers a skillfully executed album. An album that strides away from the others bundled in this genre. With each listen it becomes more powerful.
The title track opens this album. Even from the initial descending keys and the pounding drums it’s clear that the triumphant optimism of On Your Shore has been consumed, replaced by dark introspection and reflection. Stromata is the song that hints at this – things left lying around – all bound together by the connective tissues that inhabit the lyrics. Only on the closing track, Redeemed, are these terrors wholly purged.
An anti-love song, with a wish (but not an act) to separate from a damaging relationship, Cut The Cord shows the beginnings of a broadening pallet of sounds that are evident elsewhere. It’s highly percussive but the keys are still there, just to tie the vocals down and to lift the chorus. Charlotte’s voice is versatile enough to have a song work like this and these sparse arrangements are used to great effect on many other songs. The subsequent track Drip returns to more familiar musical territory but this time adds electronic beats to an electric piano. Charlotte deals with her subject matter with a frankness and sensuality that’s not been heard from her before. Part of this was due to the solitary recording process, allowing her to better express her feelings.
Little Universe is also occupied with partnerships and is the most rhythmically challenging song on the album, echoing the minimalism of Cut The Chord, but leading from the textures of Drip. It almost develops into tense ambient electronica, especially when the squelching bassline arrives. Civilized releases the fury that’s been slowly building since Cut The Cord over a flamboyant backing before we reach an aftermath of sorts on the gentle A Hopeless Attempt – “How’d this teardrop start a fire?”
But the remarkable Four Walls is subtle and lyrically disturbing, using manic breakbeats to emphasise isolation and depression. These contrasting dance rhythms thus add to the song’s emotional effect. I’ve written about this track performed live and this may be the best way to experience it, however Four Walls is my favourite recorded Charlotte Martin song – especially as the climax builds once then twice.
Hereon in, the songs yield to the power of Charlotte’s piano: Inch yearns for the redemption that’s not granted (or perhaps not desired) until later, and the love-song Keep Me In Pocket holds a handful of wonderful vocal bridges. Pills is possibly a misunderstood track – the Mr Zebra of the album. Whilst the piano is childlike, the song’s continued repetition of the things medication can do to you and the stupidity of one substance being used to offset the side effects of another only adds to the horror of the finale.
Just Before Dawn is an operatic interlude sung in German which acts as a lead into Cardboard Ladders, a calming beginning to the gradual lightening of the album as it nears its conclusion – “I can’t keep turning my back on / The horizon”
The final two tracks are the musical highlights: The Dance layers voice with pattering drumbeats, adding music-box keys as the song progresses, together with a synth bass and further vocals. It’s conclusion strikingly pours in more piano, over which the subject of the song is finally revealed.
Redeemed binds electronic percussion with a panoply of arrangements. Each section of the song and corresponding delivery works brilliantly. Charlotte uses a wide range of styles here, becoming close to piano cabaret perhaps, but fortunately without the ostentation. This isn’t merely for artistic display. The composition exhibits darkness and light to sum up the preceding 13 tracks before moving forward to the emotional denouement. This single track marks Stromata as an album of transition which intriguingly hints at further possibilities. I suspect that when Charlotte’s career has developed further this album will become more relevant to herself, her fans and to the wider musical community.
In all the black
In all the grief
Through all the pain
And unbelief
These are the words
That they all scream
I am redeemed
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