Eddi Reader: "Mirmama"


Fairground Attraction split after one platinum album, The First Of A Million Kisses; Perfect, the sound of summer '88, was soundaliked and killed by an Asda ad; and singer Eddi Reader's idiosyncratic talent seemed to have been lost between there and here. However, Mir Mama vindicates her commitment to the combined sparkle of bright minds and acoustic instruments. With guitars picked prettily by Kirsty MacColl's brothers Calum and Neill, and drums brushed and slapped by former Fairgrounder Roy Dodds, the album is so airy and fluent it's as if she'd only been gone for the afternoon. Reader's particular strength is mixed emotions. She gets down to those (autobiographical?) love-hurts songs with humour rather than traditional singer-songwriterly despondency. For instance, That's Fair is an internal argument between a woman's doormat side accepting every imposition as, indeed, "fair", and a more subversive inner voice, a sotto sample asking "Is it?", after each self-abusing line. In Cinderella's Downfall it's male stereotyping versus real woman again, and Cinders just won't wear it: "I'm going round your house now/Gonna kick the door down/I feel like Robert Mitchum/And I'm spinning you around". It's a rhapsodic romantic comedy with the heroine not so much Mitchum as Cary Grant made over into female flesh. While the best of her writing is sharpened by a shrewd sense of fun and conflict, her singing- lead or back-up- lifts every track. Brilliantly conceived harmonies and countermelodies enliven demanding lyrics on All Or Nothing and What You Do With What You've Got. Oddly, the anticipated dippy hippy element emerges only in a couple of covers- a sentimental John Prine song about old age called Hello In There and Fred Neil's dimly philosophical Dolphins (notably recorded by Tim Buckley and Billy Bragg). She's already much better than that, an increasingly confident, tough and funny artist with no need to hide behind whimsy or flakiness.

Rating: four stars (out of five)

Reviewer: Phil Sutcliffe

from March '92 issue of Q

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