Number 5 of 2007 — Liz Tormes: Limelight

There are some albums I’ll never be able to listen to in the company of others, such is their ability to prod at my own failings and insecurities. This isn’t one of them – not for that reason – but for these: Liz Tormes’ self-released debut is unburdened by complication, shockingly truthful and deeply layered – musical textures and sounds that listeners need to sink into. When she sings “I’m as straight as an arrow, but you want a pretty maze,” on closing track Fade Away that’s something that shouldn’t be shared with anyone who wouldn’t appreciate it. Limelight isn’t disposable alt-country, it’s an album to be cherished, both on sunny days and brooding autumn evenings, although ironically the title track does evoke memories of Cowboy Junkies some twenty years ago.

Whilst it initially appears to occupy familiar surroundings, dark and heavy with years of worn emotions, it is in no way persistently gloomy. “Darkness has been a friend to me” on that same song shows the importance of tense in songwriting. Some songs are perversely positive, Better Days matches upbeat tempo with desperate lyrics – “It’s not that I don’t wanna be your girl, I just don’t wanna be.” Yet the final line to that song almost relieves the misery, but you’ll have to discover that yourself

As you may have gathered, Liz Tormes’ lyrics are precise and noteworthy, each matched with an appropriate delivery. Her voice turns from poppy to husky depending on the notes she sings but that’s fine by me. Take Don’t Look Back, which is as optimistic as things can get, despite “I’m drowning in un-given love” and my favourite line from the album – “Stop loving things that don’t love back.”

Maybe You Won’t is one of three tracks that features Teddy Thompson sharing vocal duties. A voice that pairs wonderfully with Liz’s own. But further long term attraction lies in the acoustic guitar scrapes and the rumbling electric guitar which fades in an out with the tidal nature of the song. Other tracks burn slowly too: Black Luck grows more fierce with each distant twang of Jason Crigler’s guitar, finally overdriving. These drunken electric slides are repeated on Fall Silent whose accompaniment gently but persistently builds joined by drums and Wurlitzer. Over this torrential backing, Liz still manages to quietly state that she’s “inspired by love.”

The most extraordinary thing about this album is how extraordinary it is. Some artists spend years trying to sound this natural. Effortless isn’t really the correct term, it’s more that once you’ve become familiar with the songs, you can’t imagine them being written, arranged or performed any differently – the pianos on opener Read My Mind and Fade Away are just perfect.

I forget how or when I discovered Limelight, but the two years it took from release to my first listen didn’t affect its power or beauty. In a year bereft of much new Emily Haines material (I got Knives Don’t Have Your Back on import BTW), this nuzzled gently to my heart, rarely played but frequently remembered. Perhaps that’s the greatest achievement an album can attain?

Liz Tormes: Limelight – iTunes UK
CD Baby
Official Website