that dog.
Retreat From The Sun
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Anna Waronker isn't an incurable romantic, but you wouldn't know that from a cursory listen to That Dog's third record, Retreat From the Sun. The frontwoman wishes on stars and is in love with love, falling into it at the rate that some of us step in dog doo. But, importantly, Waronker's songs put all her moves in a sensible context. She's not just getting crushes, she's deconstructing them. She's not just loving guys, she's getting their numbers – and her own. Waronker's voice shares Liz Phair's beautiful, thin nasalness, which makes them both sound like they just escaped the high school chorus and jumped into rock as a way to save their deeply oppressed souls. But Waronker
Read More is much more confrontational than Phair – Waronker is in the world, rocking out with her band. She's traveled from Long Island to Minneapolis to what she calls the "western horizon," pursuing adventures and going to punk-rock shows along the way. Waronker has left the obsessive safety of the teenage bedroom on a wave of fast-moving post-punk explosions, driven by Tony Maxwell's power drumming and her own guitar; Retreat From the Sun leaps from big-hair solos to arty noodling in a single bound. Throw in Petra Haden's mournful violin and Waronker's lush piano, and Retreat's jauntily soul-searching sound reflects the emotional content of Waronker's musings entirely. When she sings about "one drunken kiss, one drunken lie, hung-over morning and a sobering cry," you feel exactly what she means. She's not being romantic, she's being a complete, if kinda sad, human being. (RS 758) NATASHA STOVALL |
