Joan Armatrading
Walk Under Ladders
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With any justice, Walk under Ladders should finally establish Joan Armatrading's popularity in America. Then again, if there were any justice, that would have happened in 1976, when her third album, Joan Armatrading, offered consistent proof that she was an original, assured songwriter who had fresh things to say about the tug of war between brains and passion in a voice that was affecting and unmistakable. Since then, she's become a star in Europe, while making only slow gains in the U.S. What's holding back her American acceptance? Her asymmetrical, slipped-rhythm compositions? Her unorthodox independence? Racism? Walk under Ladders won't change the last two, yet
Read More it should eliminate any lingering complaints about abstruse songwriting. In her new material, Armatrading has effectively doubled the melody quotient without boxing in her verses. Instead of having the tune exclusively in the vocal line, she's added instrumental counterpoints. Last year's Me Myself I attempted a cruder version of this strategy, finishing off Armatrading's odd length lines with guitar licks, but the hooks and Richard Gottehrer's dense, metallic production hemmed in the singer's voice. On Walk under Ladders, the countermelodies entwine gracefully with the vocals, and producer Steve Lillywhite creates space for everything. Usually a synthesizer line or two, a keyboard or a guitar and pared-down bass and drums hover around Joan Armatrading's voice, providing all the reinforcement she needs. Beyond that, Lillywhite–or the current songs–have coaxed a new quality from Armatrading's singing, a playfulness and humor that were always implicit in her lyrics. "I'm Lucky" sets up tension between a deep, minor-key synthesizer riff and Armatrading's jaunty vocal, then wraps things up with a whistling-in-the-dark keyboard solo. While Armatrading was never prolix, her lyrics now are more concise than ever, perhaps because she's decided to leave additional room for instrumental back talk. She can compress a complex situation into a quick epigram ("You know you're a/Beautiful person/But just now/You bother me") or sum up a love triangle as clearly as "And I need you/And you." Unlike Me Myself I, on which the singer proclaimed her singularity while instruments battered her from all directions, Walk under Ladders allows Armatrading to depend on the backup to stay out of her way, which may be why its lyrics accept, however warily, a certain vulnerability. Joan Armatrading admits that blind trust is for "Romancers," and that an unquestioned love affair is a "fool's paradise," but she lets herself try them anyway, just like the rest of us. If the public does get to hear her, they'll recognize themselves. This time for sure? (RS 357) JON PARELES |
