REVIEW: Beth Orton, Central Reservation (Arista/Deconstruction)
- Patrick Carmosino
Originally hyped as a UK club-savored diva (for her work with the Chemical Brothers), Beth Orton whipped up a debut record (_Trailer Park , 1997) that married her spacious trip hop and electronic yearnings perfectly with a rather dynamic folk form that evoked images of not only Joni Mitchell, but also early Carole King and Carly Simon. It was that comfy, early 70's feel as well as her ghostly voice that was the kicker to it all.
On Central Reservation, gone are the abstract trip hop leanings (save for the stark "Stars All Seem To Weep"). Present are a mix of very pretty, jazz-inspired waltzy ballads and bare but lush guitar and voice pieces that keep the spaces just as beautifully wide-open.
Also present are the shuffling progressions of such songs as the lead song, "Stolen Car." With its token snarling guitar to go along, one could think momentarily that Orton's bought into the edgy blandness disguised as the pseudo-righteousness of Lilith Fair-land. The track's growing intensity defies all that nonsense, though, and fulfills its spot as a fine intro taster (yet not tasting like anything else the album is about).
"Sweetest Decline," which comes in right after "Stolen Car," is the first of the three waltz-oriented numbers and, wonderfully, the schmaltziest. With its ride cymbal tick-tocks, string orchestrations and violin plucks, you get the sense the elegant lounge gown fits Orton as well as her jeans and trainers. The other two waltzes -- "So Much More" and "Pass In Time" -- come from a more be-bop (and yes, Joni Mitchell "Blue"-period) backdrop. On "So Much More," Orton uses a synthesized mandolin sound instead of an actual mandolin, and it fits the song beautifully; she gets a new and unique version out of a traditional sound. And check out the "slide" vibes on "Couldn't Cause Me Harm" that, along with the melody, put you in your favorite afternoon room in 1973.
The title track finds Beth Orton at her inspired best lyrically: "I can still smell you on my fingers and taste you on my breath. Stepping through brilliant shades of the colour you bring/ And nothing is as sacred as we want it to be when it's real." These are but nuggets of her profound writings that fill her first 2 records. Ben Watt's remix of "Central Reservation" at the end of the record turns more into a pop song or intro music for a hip major film rather than any deep club groove that one can see Orton getting further into at some point. As an album, Central Reservation avoids a sophomore slump with a batch of songs both fresh in their approach, yet containing the essential sparks that sent you Beth Orton's way from the start.
