Garrison Starr – The Sound Of You And Me
It’s easy to root for singer-songwriter Garrison Starr, whose first mainstream notice came with 1997’s Lilith-friendly pop hit “Superhero”. Starr has pursued a rootsier direction since then, somewhere betwixt Rosanne Cash and Shawn Colvin. She’s made a series of solid records that come tantalizingly close to great — most notably 2002’s Songs From Take-Off To Landing, which had a should’ve-been-a-hit song in “Knucklehead” — without ever quite getting there. The Sound Of You And Me is another non-breakthrough.
On the one hand, it’s more than pleasant. The album’s eleven songs glide by in a tasteful folk-rock blur of sonic comfort food, perfect for your friendly local triple-A radio station. Starr’s voice and lyrics suggest an appealing character; between that and the overall level of craftsmanship, there are lots worse ways you could spend 45 minutes.
But nothing on The Sound Of You And Me stands out as particularly distinctive, either. Play the album a dozen times, and nothing on it lingers in the memory any stronger than after the first time. Even the dramatic moments, such as “Beautiful In Los Angeles”, seem curiously subdued; maybe it could use a few more rough edges. Or maybe the material needed more time in the oven.