There is a point where precious can become too much. Even the cutest, most twee, fey or otherwise milquetoast album should be able to bear some teeth – something to show its still rock. Even a teacup poodle can growl to announce its presence.
Fortunately, Isobel Campbell’s Milkwhite Sheets isn’t quite that far along the lily laden trail to precious. Erstwhile member of the Scottish collective Belle and Sebastian, Cambell’s record runs the line between satisfying and too-light-for-its-own-good. There is a deft production hand that guides her 13-track disk, similar to that Mazzy Star ran with on her early work, making songs like “Willow’s Song” and “James” less about her infectious, siren call, and more about a tangible music quality. Campbell is given production credit, but it is the informed hand of superman Mark Lanegan that beefs it up to substance. Of course, Mazzy Star drenched herself in a blistering coat of feedback; this album is cleaner, more serene. What Campbell does so effectively to enhance her already enchanting qualities, is layer orchestral movements, strings and harmonicas over her spare acoustic guitar. Just enough ephemera to accent her vocals.
Make no mistake though: Campbell’s voice is a star. One listen to “Hori Horo”, or “Cachel Wind” and it is clear there are few more evocative starlets in the atmosphere. She tempts a dangerous fate, coming almost to the point where she’s too high to make use of the entire mix; her words are lost, but viewed in their most flattering light, Campbell’s vocals should be felt like another instrument.
It’s a warm album. In terms of its somber songs, almost without peer; definitely precious, but not too much. |