Many voices are out there asking for our
attention. Some cry for it, (Morrisey, Robert
Smith), some scream for it, (Melissa
Etheridge, the late Kurt Cobain), and others
who simply compel, (Freedy Johnston, the man
called E). We have wailers like Bono and
beggars like the Smoking Popes. They want our
ears and they want 'em bad, but we only have
so much listening time. Of course the radio
stations are only too happy to help us by
throwing Bono and Melissa in our faces time
and time again while ignoring most of the
others, but those whose attention needs a more
varied menu are left unsatisfied. That leaves
us picking through the rubble to find the
music our attention deserves for the precious
time we have to give.
After picking awhile through the new year's offerings, my ears
were grabbled by a compelling new voice. Not screaming or
crying, certainly not wailing, the voice of Patti Rothberg
sometimes gently, sometimes powerfully commands your
attention. Perhaps it's her unorthodox training ground that
gives her the self-assured voice of a seasoned veteran she
displays throughout her debut, BETWEEN THE 1 AND
THE 9, due for release in April.
The title refers to her career as a busker, playing
for nickels and dimes in the slimy tunnels of
New York City. Having to fight for notice by a
largely unheeding rush-hour audience has
allowed this former waif to confidently express
herself with an immediacy that makes you listen
like your ears depended on it.
According to the press release, Rothberg's music has tastes
of Edie Brickell, Blondie and Patti Smith in its textures. I
personally found more in common with former street-corner
buskers Violent Femmes instrumentally speaking, while the
singing flavors lean toward a sweet mixture of Juliana Hatfield
and Jill Sobule.
The slight rasp in her otherwise smooth vocals
lends a world-weariness to the deceivingly
innocent lyrics and simple arrangements. Most
of Rothberg's songs are blues and folk-based
ditties played in a stripped-down, acoustic and
electric guitar format, probably sounding much
the way they were originally played in the
concrete underground.
The exaggerated echo throughout the opening track,
"Flicker," contributes to this feeling while the space between
the sparse guitar strums on the folksy "Inside" lends a lonely
overtone to this tune about, appropriately enough, isolation
and alienation. After listening to lyrics like "you take the green
right from the grass" or "I'm happy alone" in the
above-mentioned songs, or hearing her tales of abuse in the
acoustically oriented "Treat Me Like Dirt," one is left with the
impression that Rothberg has little use for relationships.
"Perfect Stranger" takes it one step further when Rothberg
wonders "will I grow to hate you like all the other ones,"
before concluding that "as long as you're a stranger, you'll be
perfect to me."
Rothberg's distaste for commitment is also
expressed by the diversity here, as she strays
from roots rock and blues rock, ("Forgive Me,"
"Out of My Mind"), to old Fleetwood Mac folk
stylings, ("Perfect Stranger"), and pretty,
violin-enhanced ballads, ("It's Alright"). Even the
production values undergo a stunning change on
"Looking For a Girl." The most we hear before
this point is a couple of guitars, bass and drums.
Then this number comes along with a melody
reminiscent of Nils Lofgren at his mid-70s
songwriting peak, an orchestra provides a lush
background and celestial harmonies drift in and
out of the mix. It's a sublime moment when
Rothberg connects with her audience, no matter
what she may think of us. The lyrics are about,
what else, another painful relationship with
another worthless cad. But the music, ahhh, the
music. It's there that Patti touches part of all of
us, even as we passed her by, dropping coins at
her feet. Perhaps the anonymity of the subway
station was the home she was seeking after all.