REVIEW: Janet Robbins, All the Worlds (Star Seven)
- Jon Steltenpohl
Although name recognition is everything, letting the whole world know your dad is Marty Robbins in the first line of your bio isn't exactly going to win you instant accolades. Depending on your point of view, Janet Robbins is thankfully or regrettably not her father when it comes to music. Where Marty garnered hits with quirky country classics such as "El Paso," Janet has decided to focus on a more modern, alternative sound. The result is a seven-song debut called All the Worlds.
After mentioning her father, Robbins' bio quickly compares her to Tori Amos, Kate Bush, and Jeff Buckley. It's another quick plea to get your attention for an obscure indie album, but, unlike many overblown bios, these comparisons are somewhat warranted. Robbins has put together an album that features some soaring vocals, atmosphere, and tender moments. It would be easy to write off such an album if it were either derivative or a major label effort. But this is a wholly original debut made in Robbins' own home studio and distributed on her own label.
All the Worlds is definitely worth paying attention to. It's a polished sounding effort that shows what can be done without a major studio behind it. The sound is crisp and clean. Distortions and effects are used seamlessly, and Robbins does a good job of coming out aggressively and then pulling back quietly. There is a Gothic sensibility of disjointed guitar and plaintive wails, but it doesn't include the Goth scene's reliance on black eyeliner and spooky lyrics. Vocally, she employs the same crooning yodel Kate Bush uses to scale up the octaves. On "Space Train," Robbins bends her notes like a harmonica player and flutters between major and minor chords. When necessary, she pulls back into a shell with quiet touches that lull you in, much like Tori Amos. But unlike Amos and Buckley, Robbins never seems to embody the songs as a personal diary. Her howls have all of the volume of Sinead O'Connor's debut, but none of the passion.
This lack of passion is also reflected in the lyrics; they are abstract and are merely flavors of emotions. Robbins sets a high bar for herself with the musical peers she's chosen for herself. While other artists seem intent on reaching down deep in their guts for intensely personal lyrics, Robbins is mired in meta-poems about misguided loves set on islands and wastelands. On "Eve," she sings, "Gash wide and blistered dry / there's a harpist playin' in some distant sky / spoon fed from a bone dry plate / this world's in destruction." Not all of the lyrics are this obtuse, but none of them really resonate with the listener on an emotional level either.
All the Worlds is certainly an album worth checking out, if nothing else but to say you knew Janet Robbins when. Anyone who had a chance to hear some of Joan Osborne's early recordings will see similarities in the budding talent. Although Osborne's eventual major label debut was molded heavily by the record label for possible radio play, Robbins' seems pretty intent on going the independent route, a la Ani DiFranco. Her website - http://www.janetrobbins.com - Real Player demos of 4 tracks, and she's maintaining a web ring for independent artists.
