Michael Fremer

Chronically undervalued and unappreciated in America, The Pretty Things, like The Kinks, The Rolling Stones and so many other British Invasion bands began life as a blues based rock outfit, churning out short, raunchy, Bo Diddley-influenced numbers as this American debut demonstrates, and later veering off into uncharted musical waters. In the case of The Pretty Things, even their name is Bo Diddley derived. Unlike some Brit bands, these guys were anything but pretty in the beginning. They got prettier as time passed.

Natalie Merchant’s first solo outing after leaving 10,000 Maniacs, issued in 1995, was among her finest records. For those who may have found her earlier work overblown and precious, the understated, acoustic setting, provided by a trio of then relative unknowns, proved ideal for a set of introspective set pieces dealing with issues of loss, jealousy, escape, sacrifice, loneliness, stardom and martyrdom delivered with cozy intimacy. No wonder it became a big seller.

This is a weird, squooshy, watery record. The music is soft and squooshy, the lyrics are soft and squooshy. Songwriter Art Halperin’s voice is particularly squooshy, the background musicians play softly and squooshily, and even the veteran recording and mastering engineer Barry Diament has captured it squooshily in real stereo in a pleasingly reverberant church using a pair of carefully placed microphones.

I am an not even remotely aware of the contemporary opera world. Until handed this disc, I was unaware of either 26 Russian-born soprano Anna Netrebko or 35 year old Mexican tenor Rolando Villazón. The foxy-looking Ms. Netrebko has been called “Audrey Hepburn with a voice,” while Mr. Villazón has not.