Campbell: Tuned In: Juliana Hatfield, Sambassadeur, Slacker

Low-key Juliana Hatfield keeps the peace

“PEACE AND LOVE,” Juliana Hatfield (Ye Olde Records)

Juliana Hatfield’s new “Peace and Love” is as quaint and wide-eyed as the title might indicate.

The DIY project from the 42-year-old New Englander is direct and nearly simple-minded in its philosophy, as when Hatfield sings on the self-motivating title track, “I don’t wanna be angry/It takes too much energy.” And the instrumentation, all played by Hatfield, is likewise uncomplicated, often little more than an acoustic guitar or piano. In fact, it’s startling when a stray electric guitar briefly slides into the mix on mid-album cut “What Is Wrong” and when a pronounced beat surfaces later on “Let’s Go Home.”

The featherweight pop/folk vibe is almost narcotic, and the still-girlish-voiced performer matches the tone as she muses on the beauty and fragility of butterflies (“Butterflies”) and asks, “Aren’t you tired of being lonely?” on “Why Can’t We Love Each Other.” Meanwhile, on the waltzing confessional “Evan,” Hatfield’s analysis of her relationship with her sometime-artistic/emotional partner Evan Dando, she concludes, “Evan, I just love you, I guess.”

A problem with “Peace and Love” is that it’s too unassuming. Hatfield even sounds bored on some of the less stimulated tracks (such as on an “I’m Disappearing” that takes an intriguing concept and goes nowhere) and unjustifiably melancholy on others (such as on a “Faith in Our Friends” that presumably means to be uplifting though it ultimately sounds morose).

A bigger problem is Hatfield’s relentless method of overdubbing her own voice into a messy, off-kilter gang-vocal — a technique that works as a rare gimmick for talented singers delivering pretty melodies but fails as a signature for Hatfield’s more modest voice.

“Peace and Love” is mildly charming, yet also a bit empty.

Rating (five possible): 3

Solemn Sambassadeur swings and misses

“EUROPEAN,” Sambassadeur (Labrador)

Scandinavians tend keep to themselves, but there’s no excuse for the kind of walls the Swedish band Sambassadeur builds on “European.”

Those walls are walls of sound — imprecise sound, to be precise — and they effectively isolate the act from its listeners and cloak its songs in inaccessibility.

By all indications, these are good songs, too. Discernible melodies are beguiling and delivered with care by the dulcet, wistful voice of Anna Persson. And the band appears capable, deftly handling piano, guitar, horns and the like.

But this is twee pop, a blurry dreamland of a subgenre of indie-pop that plops Persson into the role of some maudlin mod or pouting beatnik, awash in the echoes and reverb that result when her band is forced to record in what sounds like a warehouse.

It’s pretty good for a song or two: Opener “Stranded” packs retro-romanticism in its hollow resonance, and “Sandy Dunes” shimmies and blooms in a boisterous beat. And to be fair, it’s never as bad as it is frustrating. The blaring, rhythmic rustle-hustle of “I Can Try” gets in the way of the seemingly earnest singer’s point, for instance, and though she layers in a little heft to her voice on the initially pretty folk/pop ballad “High and Low,” all of the sonic elements are gathered into a drone storm.

Given the lyrics, Persson and company might have opted for a more traditional shoegazer route. She ominously warns, “You must keep them from knowing loneliness is something you’re accustomed to” on “Days,” and she celebrates solitude on “Albatross” with, “I was happier alone/Cut my hair just like a boy.” Such lines practically cry out for polished understatement.

Yet the battle of aural allure versus affected cacophony comes with only one brief cease fire: The instrumental “A Remote View” showcases fine acoustic guitar work and gives listeners a breather from Sambassadeur’s needless, self-induced tension.

It’s a shame to see something pure deliberately sullied under some pretentious notion of art.

Rating: 3

DJ Slacker re-calibrates the rhythm of ‘Life’

“START A NEW LIFE,” Slacker (Godlike & Electric)

If only we could all hit the reset button on our lives and come up with something like Slacker’s “Start a New Life.”

A couple of years ago the DJ — aka British progressive-electronic producer Shem McCauley — fled his homeland for Bangkok, where he unplugged, got healthy and taught yoga. His return to music is the fully chilled “Start a New Life” that blends down-tempo with cinematic performance art, jazz and just enough funk to keep you lucid.

Songs typically hang on a vocal snippet, the rhythms wrapping around the simple lyrics like decorative ribbons, brushed with a synthetic wash.

“Start a New Life” is born with its title-track opener, quietly floating in and hitching to a languid churn while lingering on a meditation to “start a new life” without fear of the unknown. There are more simple, seductive notions gently swirling through the mix, as with the echoing invitation of “Come With Me” that trails along a syncopated rhythm with electric taunts built into the loop.

The release has more uncertain moods, however: There’s the unsettling shout from a child on the simmering/pan-flute-fluttering “Help Me Here,” and the funk-spiced “Just As I Am,” featuring near-subliminal vocals, vaguely feels both inviting and threatening.

Yet the centerpiece is “Come Back Home,” which positively hypnotizes with its rotating swells.

Listeners are apt to feel adrift in “Start a New Life,” embraced in the aural amnion that is electro-chill music. Where these songs begin and end seems inconsequential because it’s all about the atmosphere.

That could get tedious for those who’d like a clearly defined Point A and Point B; yet “Start a New Life” is more about the points beyond.

Rating: 4

© 2010, Knoxville News Sentinel Co.
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