Archive for August 2001

A voice this mighty in its own wee way can only come from Texas.  Sure enough, Frost hails from the Lone Star State and pays tribute to it on the foot-tapping "Cars and Parties."  Intelligently written, it could be an anthem if it weren’t smartly bouyed by somber strings.  The rest of Wonder Wonder is comparatively downbeat, comprised of quiet folk songs with a twisted wit.  The title track is wonderfully disorienting, while "Dreamers" is simply gorgeous.

From her ’70s logo to her mellowest sleepy ballads, Edith Frost can reach from the depths of her diaphragm like Will Oldham but also bring it up to a cuter tone. The sound of country, a little folk, and some lullabies make up this album. It’s an easy-listener. Some songs are acoustic guitar-led with side musician help, and others are full-on band songs that can get eerie at times. Wonder Wonder takes listeners into familiar Drag City territory. It’s sedating and hypnotic.

I didn’t like Edith Frost’s debut ep from a few years ago then loved her debut lp Calling Over Time. The bits I heard of her next record, Telescopic and now comes this, Wonder Wonder and she’s back on track: I love it! I guess I should buy every other record she releases. Frost paints pictures in the singer-songwriter vein and does so w/ a lovely voice (not unlike a Liz Phair w/ a slightly country feel) guitars strummed into minor chord heaven, and a twinkle of piano here and there. "Cars and Parties" and "Hear My Heart" are both whispery and lovely while the title track shuffles along at an oom-pah beat. When she gets a bit louder and more dramatic (ie: like on "The Fear") I like it less and I still think Calling Over Time is her masterpiece but Wonder Wonder has many high points too and just adds another feather in Edith’s already loaded cap.

A charming torch-song masterpiece from this non-chirpy chanteuse, Wonder Wonder recalls the golden days of the pre-Lilith era — think incandescent albums like Cath Carroll’s True Crime Hotel and Jenny Mae’s There’s A Bar Around The Corner… Asshole and even lesser lights like Lida Husik and you’d be on the right track.  Edith Frost is the possessor of a dusky pair of pipes, and she knows a thing or two about arrangements, making songs like the title cut absolutely irresistible trinkets of new-wave bumpkinism.  Supported by delicate underpinnings of guitar and piano, Frost’s sweet voice proves itself a dynamic vehicle for either the weepy backporch lament of "Hear My Heart" or the waltz-like dirge of "The Fear."  Throughout, she warbles with implacable richness and beauty and the kind of unaffected charm that’s as soothing as a mouthful of warm honey.  Wonder Wonder is the album Liz Phair should’ve made after Exile In Guyville; its genuine maturity trumps high-gloss AOR over and over again.  Don’t miss it.

Sometimes feeling bad sounds pretty darn good. Frost’s third full-length album finds her wondering (repeatedly) about the possibilities and limitations of love. Some lines can border on the mawkish ("Let me melt into your starry eyes"), but most ring true, especially when filtered through Frost’s smoldering alto. Her vocals are a perfect match for the fireside intimacy of the acoustic, often country-inspired ballads that make up much of the album.

I can’t think of a better singer for this to happen to.  With two albums and a handful of EPs and singles released in the past six years, and twice that many years spent performing, it is time for Edith Frost to get a big push.  As a member of the Drag City roster, one can’t expect a promotional blitz on the scale of a Jennifer Lopez or a Missy Elliott, but there is a definite feeling that the label is completely behind Wonder Wonder.

EDITH FROST: Wonder Wonder (Drag City) ***
Since departing American-trad territory as a member of the Holler Sisters and Edith and Her Roadhouse Romeos, Chicago transplant Edith Frost has explored moody, contemplative songs with whispery aplomb. Her debut, Calling Over Time, showcased her cool, clear, dulcet-voiced take on Americana shaded with minor-key melodies reminiscent of an earthier early-’70s Joni Mitchell. Its follow-up, Telescopic, was an atmospheric affair that displayed a bleary-eyed, introverted psychedelia similar to Syd Barrett and Skip Spence. With Wonder Wonder, Frost finds the balancing act between the sounds of those albums, more in league with her 1999 single Love Is Real. The dozen songs are subtly powerful, implying emotional depth rather than spelling it out. By the finale, "You’re Decided," the strange hypnosis of the album has opened up matrices of memory and emotion, offering dusky refuge from troubling loves and losses in the lilt of Frost’s voice.

Chicagoan Edith Frost’s third album continues the path of heart-wrenching, introspective and beautiful songwriting, backed with simple, spare arrangements and her haunting, hint-of-twang voice. She comes by her portion of Southern country honestly, having toiled in several different country and Western swing bands before landing in the Windy City and on Drag City, following like-minded singer/songwriter Will Oldham. Frost isn’t nearly so lackadaisical and contrary as Oldham, and Wonder Wonder shines with some hope and brightness that makes it mellow but not dark. Members of Eleventh Day Dream, Sea and Cake and other Chicago notables appear to back her up, but Frost could caress her guitar and whisper in the corner and demand to be heard.