album review: karen elson, the ghost who walks
I imagine that being married to Jack White does wonders for your ability to get an album released. No doubt Mr. White could’ve pulled the appropriate strings to get just about anything recorded by his Missus out and into the world, but even though mention of their partnership is virtually unavoidable in a review of her album (he did produce it after all, as well as encourage her to play her songs to a wider audience than the bathroom tiles), it’s also probably doing Karen Elson a disservice.
The Ghost Who Walks, a nickname bestowed upon her by cruel (or probably young and stupid) classmates who are surely kicking themselves now and the title of Elson’s debut album, reveals her to be one talented woman. Far from being reliant on the talents of her spouse, all songs bar one were penned by Elson herself, and though the raw production is quintessential Jack White, this is as far as the similarities extend to White’s own projects.
The album is generally a haunted combination of country and folk, highlighted particularly in opening tracks, ‘The Ghost Who Walks’ and ‘The Truth Is In The Dirt’, setting the eerie tone of the album before ‘Pretty Babies’ is curiously lifted by an organ complementing Elson’s vocals, whilst retaining the chilly mood throughout.
‘Lunasa’, written by Elson’s bandmate in The Citizens Band, Rachelle Garniez, is a pretty ballad – a few strings and some nice harmonies – but admittedly nothing exceptional, before Elson thankfully reverts to a haunting piano opening ‘100 Years From Now’, best described as part cabaret and part psychedelic circus troupe, with a lovely spoken interlude partway through. We then move to ‘Stolen Roses’, which sounds like it could just as easily be a reinterpreted medieval song (à la Greensleeves) with a notable addition of a slide guitar, before ‘Cruel Summer’ gives us the quintessential ‘country experience’ – a love song of loss, with a melody that oscillates between uplifting and mourning.
To be honest, the rest of the album continues in much the same vein, which probably seems like a cop-out in writing a review about it, but it’s also indicative of the fact that it’s a solid, enjoyable and more-than-semi-remarkable album, but not every song is going to rock your world. There is enough variety to ensure that you’re not listening to the same song twelve times (I’m looking at you, Jack Johnson), but chances are that if you like one of them, you’re going to like all of them.
