Edith Frost, Central Falls, Sarah Dougher
The credits on Edith Frost’s albums read like a Who’s Who of indie rock: contributors include the Sea & Cake’s Archer Prewitt, Gastr del Sol’s Jim O’Rourke and Rick Rizzo of Eleventh Dream Day, among others. Steve Albini even produced* her latest CD, Wonder Wonder. Yet despite such enviable affiliations and a spot on the roster of hip Chicago label Drag City, Frost’s music lacks any cooler-than-thou pretense. She calls on her Texas roots to lend a loping cadence and occasional twang to minor-key melodies, her voice alternating between a subtly country swagger and a ghostly, childlike whisper awash in delicate harmonies. Even if she rolls into town with no renowned labelmates in tow, Frost — armed with an acoustic guitar and a wounded heart — is plenty captivating all by her lonesome.

Edith Frost, with Central Falls
Wednesday, April 17 at Graceland, 8pm, 21+
The weather outside is becoming warmer, and the flowers will soon be blooming. Ah, spring, a time for frolicking, and being light and listening to happy music. One show that will definitely have heavy Springtime vibes will be Edith Frost at Graceland on April 17. Frost has that sort of indy-rock meets country feel, like Aimee Mann or even Kristen Hirsh. She is touring in support of her third album, Wonder Wonder, a record that was engineered by Steve Albini, and has been called "ambitious" and "strong" by critics. The songs from this album, along with many from her previous three, should make for a night of fun and springtime giddiness. Opening for Edith will be Central Falls, another band from Chicago, who have been described as "Acetone with twang." This show is the perfect event for this time of year, so dance around the puddles as you head on down to Graceland and get your life set for Spring!

Starts out all innocent and folky, building in intensity until the sweetness is cloaked in a medieval creepiness and starts sounding like the voices in a madwoman’s head. Ambling tunes reveal complex structures and compelling lyrics, with rather gorgeous results.

"Calling over Time," Edith Frost (Calling Over Time):
"Now you are in paradise…." This haunting campfire lament sounds eerily like a suicide bomber’s widow testifying to faith against hope. "Loving hand turns burning sand to water."

Forget pop stars and grab a helping of this woman’s pop gems.  Add a hint of country twang, some strings, and some help from Chicago’s most esteemed indie stars and you’ve got the makings of greatness.

Edith Frost’s promise picks up where Liz Phair’s left off. While high dollar Phair married a high dollar husband and presumably ruined her outlet for interesting songwriting, Frost hasn’t squandered opportunity and has some good stories to tell. With an airy voice that glides across the notes and sinks sweetly into your ear, Frost subtly works her way into your head. Previous efforts were tagged as alt-country, but Wonder Wonder showcases a multifaceted Edith Frost and comes closer to ethereal pop than Nashville. Often underappreciated and underrated, Frost finds herself without the print-worthy notion of female stardom that lesser artists have undeservingly soaked up. It would be a shame to miss out on this artist’s talent. Wonder Wonder should be the record that lets everyone know what he or she is missing.

Frost’s new outing showcases her excellent, country-leaning songwriting and singing. Less fuzzed out than her last release (’98’s Telescopic), Wonder Wonder has almost Tin Pan Alleyesque moments. The almost whimsical title track brings to mind Frost’s old-time music jones, but also reminds me of Mo Tucker singing "After Hours." Frost has more subtlety and skill as a singer than Tucker, of course, but the charm is somewhat similar. Backed by a strong, mostly Chicago-based crew of musicians, Frost delivers 12 pop (in the best sense of the word) songs that’ll get stuck in your head and CD player.

Edith Frost is the only woman that’s made it into the Drag City Songwriters Boy’s Club. Across the course of a couple eps and a couple albums, she’s shown herself to be a limber songsmith, her crooning cowgal odes simple little-ditties that are able to contour to different strands of sonic styling. After the Royal Trux duo of Adam & Eve (mis)handled production on the strange, shifting, stirring Telescopic, Frost hands over production duties to Drag City dude Rian Murphy for her latest outing, Wonder Wonder.

Edith Frost’s voice reminds me of crisp shadows and evening air: composed and cool. There’s also a soft crackle to her vocals, like the burn of a tinder-caught spark. Add the rustic twang of strings, the moody linger of guitar, piano, and considered percussion, and you have Wonder Wonder, Frost’s follow-up to Telescopic. Whether sadly introspective or quietly joyful, the songs on her latest album still exude a gentle acoustic grace. During the lilting saunter of "Hear My Heart", Frost sings, "Can our hearts decode / all the text implies / can I look into your hardened old eyes?" On Wonder Wonder’s last tuneful and unconsciously affecting track, she intones, "as long as you’re decided, I can’t stay mad at you."

Album number three from this Chicago-via-Brooklyn-via-Texas singer/songwriter.  Though she’s not really covering any ground that wasn’t trod upon on 1999’s Telescopic, she does what she does and she does it with remarkable understated charm.  Picture Lucinda Williams torching her way through the Bacharach/David songbook and you’ll have an inkling of the depth and breadth of Wonder Wonder.

In a world where the airwaves are hijacked (I know, sorry) with cookie-cutter singer-songwriters of the fairer sex (Sheryl Crow, Shawn Colvin et al.) who seem to put more of a premium on sex appeal than originality, it’s good to know there’s someone like Edith Frost to take us away from it all for a little while.

Chicago chanteuse Edith Frost moves between the Windy City’s alt-country and indie-experimental music axes. Her third album, "Wonder Wonder" (Drag City), is a reflective, shrewdly produced affair that makes deft use of strings and horns where appropriate. Frost’s distant-yet-emotive voice is sounding more and more like that of fellow Chicagoan Liz Phair these days, but her self-possessed songs of heartache are full of a gentle wistfulness all her own.

Recently I stumbled across two delicious reissues of oozy-hippie songstress Margo Guryan: Take A Picture and 25 Demos (Franklin Castle).  These two chamber-’60s efforts’ avant-hillbilly lilt, flute-y flightiness, sun-strewn feel and melodicism set a perfect stage for Guryan’s cool yet pleading voice.  What the hell does this have to do with Edith Frost?  That this eerie sun-dappled bit of erotica could be the work of Frost’s mom.

Is it country, is it post-rock or is it just good ole acoustic rock?  During the span of her career, Drag City recording artist Edith Frost has certainly dabbled in cross-pollinating all these particular genres, thus creating a style all her own.  Her newest album, Wonder Wonder, calls on many an indie superstar for assistance, ranging from the Sea and Cake’s Archer Prewitt to uber-producer Steve Albini.  The twelve-song recording offers up a mellow blend of laid-back, down home songs with melodies that must have been blown into the Windy City via a rickety Memphis roadhouse.  <…>