Laura Veirs – Warp and Weft
In the time since her last album was released in January 2010, Laura Veirs has been busy. There’s been a film soundtrack and a collection of children’s songs. But this is the real successor. And the good news is that Warp and Weft is just as captivating and as enjoyable as its predecessor. Much of the attraction of a Laura Veirs album lies in the phrasing. She has a wonderful way of running quickly over words only to sustain the last of them, drawing attention both to it and to the general feeling she’s trying to convey. Most of the time that feeling is one of a certain child-like wonder. There’s an innocence to a Laura Veirs album. But that’s not to say the themes can’t be serious or affecting. In one song, she tells the true story of Sadako Sasaki, who, suffering from the effects of the atomic bomb, was told that she would be granted her most heartfelt wish if she could fold a thousand origami cranes. She never made it. But Laura Veirs is no mongerer of gloom, no merchant of sadness. Even when the themes are personal and difficult, the delivery is gentle. The mood optimistic. And on top of it all there’s the music. There are some beautiful moments here. The short instrumental, ‘Ikaria’, stands out, but perhaps above all there’s the closer, ‘White Cherry’, which just sparkles with its cellos, cowbells, and goodness-knows-what else. And across the album generally there’s some nice variety, from the Neko Case-like rock-out of ‘That Alice’ to the quieter sounds of ‘Shapeshifter’. Laura Veirs is never going to start a revolution, even if she’s not afraid of some social commentary, notably on ‘America’. But what she lacks in experimentation she makes up for in control. And of course, having Tucker Martine as your producer-husband probably helps to bring out the best in any song. This is an artist who is happy with the sound she has found and who is willing to take the time to make the most of it. Warp and Weft shows that it’s been time well spent.