2012, Jagjaguwar
by Martin White
8.4 / 10
Sharon Van Etten's Tramp feels like this year's successor to High Violet and The Walkmen's You & I. Like Matt Berninger and Hamilton Leithauser, her lyrics often deal with her own shortcomings, self-consciousness, and the sad-ass shit of our every-day lives. And this thing is littered with insightful statements that are full of gray imagery. "Like cigarette ash, the world is collapsing around me" stops short of being totally depressing by being followed with the line, "Let's try to do the best we can." But The National member and producer Aaron Dessner is certainly responsible to the comparisons to The Walkmen and his own band. His recording gives many of the sounds a rounded-off-at-the-edges warmth and provides plenty of extra texture and instrumentation to the previously bare songwriting while still giving the music plenty of dimension and space. On album highlight "In Line," Van Etten's voice is so close that it feels like she is singing right next to you. And the snare clicks and snaps right inside your head, but there are these ghostly reverberations and artifacts of sound drifting in and out of the background that deepen the sound. When she sings "When you were on my side / the world was shitty then" there is a distant echo, a distorted shadow of her own voice thrown against the murky backdrop. The same effect is achieved with the hazy yet reassuring pianos that permeate "Magic Clouds."
"All I Can" begins with a languid and relaxed pace, but Van Etten's vocal gradually becomes more motivated. By the end, the song feels suddenly anthemic as she sings "I do all I can / We all make mistakes." It's a mantra for the every-man and the every-things and it's a line to get you through the day. The song is matched with the thoroughly uplifting "We Are Fine" to kick off the second side, with the latter appropriately featuring Zach Condon. The touch of ukelele and the song's waltzing gait would put it right at home in the Beirut songbook. Both Van Etten and Condon deal with social anxiety, and it is easy to see that coming to life in this song. Yet, its lyrics have meaning that are far more universal and the gently cradling piano and ukulele give it an optimistic, looking-forward-and-not-back attitude.
Occasionally, though, Dessner's warm and cozy production does become a bit overwrought and I am left missing the clearer, rawer sound of epic. At times it is difficult to understand Van Etten's vocals when they are slightly muffled or crowded out by the extra instruments and ambiance of the production. This does work in Tramp's favor on tracks like "Kevin's" where Van Etten's voice takes on a shrouded, mysterious quality. But it can also keep her lyrics from cutting too deep or with as much force as they may have in the past. This is the case for the nebulous "I'm Wrong," which just meanders along, buoyed and timidly supported by some horns and guitar feedback. Perhaps a more focused piece of songwriting with the simplicity of Van Etten and a guitar would have worked better here.
But then we get "Joke or a Lie," the closer and the quietest, simplest song here. Van Etten's soft, gorgeous voice whispers lines like "Chip on your shoulder / how do you deal with that weight?" with the help of the occasional, sharply strummed acoustic string and some twinkling pianos. Her voice pulls you in and the songs are catchy and memorable enough to remain with you for days. But it's her direct, revealing songwriting that really makes Sharon Van Etten's music timeless.
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