Artists who evoke darker moods and emotions have a tough time of it in the United States. Whereas overseas listeners can place such music into a broader artistic context (after all, the movie 24 Hour Party People made the connection between Joy Division and the Happy Mondays), people here struggle to see it as anything less than a suicide note or the sullen complaints of a spooky poet who stopped taking Prozac. Such are the problems that have dogged singer/songwriter Lisa Germano since she emerged playing violin from John Cougar Mellencamp's entourage to deliver her own sepia-toned, little-girl-lost vision. While enjoying acclaim from David Bowie and a healthy European following through her early work on 4AD, Germano appears incapable of oozing the treacly sentiments Americans love to hear from female songwriters.
If you like this story, consider signing up for our email newsletters.
SHOW ME HOW
You have successfully signed up for your selected newsletter(s) - please keep an eye on your mailbox, we're movin' in!
Like fellow empath Rosanne Cash, Germano reserves a special place in her soul for the lullaby, revisiting the form in various guises over the album's 30 minutes. Punctuated at points by a forlorn piano motif that jumps in unexpectedly, Liquid Pig explores the fantasies and hopes of an unnamed soul, simultaneously mocking and defending the need for a protective inner universe. In keeping with the aesthetic, the album's soundscape is all distanced piano and reverb with surprisingly little violin, although Germano lets in a little light with the country-tinged "It's Party Time" and the hopeful closer "... to dream" -- the latter added at the urging, Germano observed during a recent performance, of her own mother, who wanted the record to end on an upbeat note.