:: Track Listing

1. Love You
2. Track You Down
3. On the Tower
4. Two Way Monologue
5. Days That Are Over
6. Wet Ground
7. Counter Spark
8. It's Over
9. Stupid Memory
10. It's Too Late
11. It's Our Job
12. Maybe You're Gone

:: Record Review

Sondre Lerche

Two Way Monologue
(EMI/Astralwerks; 2004)

Rating: 56%
Combined Rating: 66%


Somewhere in a quiet, rural graveyard in the UK, Nick Drake is rolling in his grave. Whereas most Americans connect the British folk hero with a Volkswagen commercial (if at all), Norwegian twenty-something Sondre Lerche is carving himself a niche in this country by rehashing Drake's ideas in a thoroughly unimaginative way. Sure, while Drake is seen as inspiration for most every singer-songwriter who followed him (Tim Buckley deserves more credit), Lerche's aping is too obvious to overlook. The vocal style and instrumental overkill immediately beg comparisons to Five Leaves Left and Bryter Layter.

What Lerche fails to capture is the emotion and weight behind those two great albums (and I wouldn't expect a Pink Moon equivalent any time soon). The songs that make up Lerche's second LP, Two Way Monologue, follow in the mould of Faces Down and his various EPs-Lerche croons (in an admittedly gorgeous voice) over heavily-orchestrated soft pop music. Lerche's vocal style simply can't rescue the record from poor lyrics and over-production.

Two Way Monologue opens with the brief instrumental "Love You," harkening back to Drake's instrumental "Introduction" to Bryter Layter, except with background noise. "Track You Down" begins the album proper by wisely focusing on Lerche's voice over a simple acoustic guitar for the first 1:30 before letting a drum beat in, and then eventually unleashing the full wall of sound. "On the Tower" takes a jilted cabaret feel and then alternates to a sweeping pop chorus, which creates a distinctly off-putting atmosphere.

The album's title track opens with Lerche once again singing over an acoustic guitar, but an unfortunate reverb effect is introduced, the song picks up pace and then (you guessed it) some no-talent Phil Spector knock-off turns the knobs up to 11 and any sense of intimacy is effectively lost. Perhaps the problem with the album is that Lerche may well be the no-talent Phil Spector knock-off in question; he is credited with, beyond playing most of the instruments, being (at least partially) responsible for arranging, engineering, and producing Two Way Monologue. This arrangement of singer-songwriter-producer can all-to-often result in a product that would have benefited from more knowledgeable production, and Two Way Monologue is a prime example.

None of the songs particularly stand out-the whole album blurs into one solid streak of dull blue-gray. The dual layered vocals on "It's Over" come off as slightly creepy, the second verse of "Counter Spark" hints at greater talent (only to be disappointed by the third and the godawful chorus), and the twangy "Stupid Memory" feels out of place, even if it comes as close as anything to breaking up the monotony.

For those who enjoy soft pop, this may be worth the sticker price. Lerche's voice certainly rivals many of his competitors, but the album as a whole lacks imagination or any sense of intimacy. Lerche's lyrics ring hollow and the instrumentation adds a cool, calculated veneer that leaves the listener with no real attachment to the record. If you're looking for well-arranged pop music stick to Rufus Wainwright, Elliott Smith, or, for that matter, dust off your copies of Nick Drake's discography and give those a spin. Any of those three will present a fuller, more honest product than Two Way Monologue. Peter Hepburn :: 16 March 2004 |