These Four Walls

by

Shawn Colvin

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Perhaps the lack of recognition given Shawn Colvin is due to her drawn out release schedule. With two albums in 11 years, she could give Boston a run for Tom Sholz's money. Maybe if she'd been a bit more prolific, she'd be recognized as the terrific artist she truly is. But then again, as each CD is a knock-out collection without filler tracks, maybe it's just as well. The appreciative audience of fans (like me) that snap up the CD's as they trickle out are always assured of only the finest quality music.

"These Four Walls" is no exception. Eleven new songs and two covers, there isn't a wasted note or overplayed stanza on the entire CD. Songs of lover's resignation (the beautiful title song) and bitter rants like "Tuff Kid" are interlaced with love songs like "Let It Slide" and her cover of the Bee Gees' "Words." Producer and co-writer John Leventhal does for Colvin what he has done over numerous times through the years: frames Colvin letter perfectly. It is the same kind of empathic touch he gave to Rosanne Cash on "Black Cadillac."

The show, however, belongs to Colvin. Her delivery of these songs is unflinchingly honest, and had this been the time of hits for the likes of her, Natalie Merchant and Suzanne Vega in the late 80's, the audience for this would be clamoring for "Summer Dress" and "Venetian Blue" on the radio or even VH1. But alas, Shawn Colvin's "These Four Walls" will suffer the commercial fate of more discriminatory buyers, like the folks who are probably reading this review. So what are you waiting for?

One of the best of 2006.

Colvin's seduction lies in her voice, at once oddly piquant and straight-faced, a twang that nicely embodies her cast of yearners, scrappers and outcasts. Her long time producer John Leventhal knows just to frame it, from the opener's ("Fill Me Up") percussive take on needy assertion to the keening, dissonant refrain of "Summer Dress." Still, memories of her better albums (Cover Girl, Whole New You) make this enterprise sound as if she stopped at the 1st, or 2nd drafts, lyric-wise. The songs refuse to stick, or most egregiously, haunt, like her best.