Silver Silver

Chronique

Simone White clearly felt like taking a different creative path on her fourth album, and no one can accuse her of being shy about exploring new avenues on Silver Silver. The warm, homespun sound of White's previous work is gone, replaced by a spare, atmospheric tone dominated by electronics and ghostly percussion accents, as organic instruments punctuate the tracks without puncturing the cool, spectral atmosphere conjured up by producers Samuel Bing and Julian Wass of Fol Chen. (Bing and Wass also played the bulk of the instruments on Silver Silver and helped White compose all but two of the songs.) White has also eased back on the seemingly willful naiveté that dominated I Am the Man and Yakiimo; Silver Silver doesn't reflect a radically different viewpoint from White's pervious work, but if the messages have only changed so much, these songs are less immediately playful and more emotionally mature, meshing with the tone of the backing tracks and leaving room for White to use her voice more like an instrument, often layering her parts for effect and sometimes adding wordless harmonies and sustained tones that hang over the music like wispy clouds. As much of a creative shift as Silver Silver may be, it's still clearly and recognizably the work of Simone White, sounding as if she traveled to the big city and had her eyes opened in ways both good and bad, but still maintaining a sense of wonder and a willingness to explore her surroundings that serve her well. Previously, Simone White sounded like she could have been singing by a campfire or in the corner at the neighborhood coffee shop; on Silver Silver, she's parked on her couch with her laptop at two in the morning, but she still wants to chat and has plenty on her mind.
© Mark Deming /TiVo