Chinese Boxes (2007)

Since 1995 when her self-titled debut album appeared, songwriter Kim Richey has pushed her own envelope enough times so that she can't be put into any kind of box, Chinese or otherwise. Richey has experienced numerous successes as a songwriter, having her songs recorded by some of the biggest names in the country biz. Yet despite overwhelming critical success, the general public hasn't completely gone over. It's difficult to understand why, since Richey understands the nuance of pop songwriting to a 'T'. She has a fine, ... Read More

Since 1995 when her self-titled debut album appeared, songwriter Kim Richey has pushed her own envelope enough times so that she can't be put into any kind of box, Chinese or otherwise. Richey has experienced numerous successes as a songwriter, having her songs recorded by some of the biggest names in the country biz. Yet despite overwhelming critical success, the general public hasn't completely gone over. It's difficult to understand why, since Richey understands the nuance of pop songwriting to a 'T'. She has a fine, large voice that is deeply expressive and adds depth and dimension to virtually everything she sings. Whatever the reason, one can only hope that as an artist she has found deep satisfaction in creating a body of work that will stand the test of time long after many of her contemporaries are gone. Chinese Boxes is her debut album for Vanguard and her first in five years. It is as different from Rise as it was from Glimmer as it was Bitter Sweet. In other words, Richey's obsession to get a song across holds no formula. Rise was spare and minimal, and this is a beautiful sweeping record with horns, strings, bright and shiny textures that aren't necessarily slick. Recorded in the U.K. with Giles Martin producing, Richey has constructed a series of classic themed and framed pop songs.The airy, breezy opener "Jack and Jill," written with Katie Herzig, contains flutes, saxes, a Wurlitzer, kazoo, and a harpsichord along with the guitars, organic percussion and drums. Yet the tune drifts with its gorgeous melody and melancholy message. The title track, about a lover who is a mystery, endless and unfathomable, mercurial and impossible to identify, contains a B-3, a horn section, and mandolin! Its melody is jaunty, it flows, moves and twirls. Yet it's not all sweetness and light; actually, none of it is, the lyrics in these songs are mature, free of clichés and easy conclusions. "The Absence of Your Company" is a devastating song about a breakup. Not in its drama, but because of the lack of it. With fingerpicked acoustic guitars, a piano, brushed drums, bass and a wooly, spaced-out guitar break, it feels like the saddest song in the world despite its mid-tempo gait. It's as if the protagonist, who may indeed be hurt by the distance created emotionally between her and her beloved, can simply walk away, as if she's so used to these scenes that even though she dies a little in the process (which is a lot of dying, if the lyrics are to be believed, and this particular woman has seen a lot of this), she simply picks up her toys and goes home. She's not playing. She takes her open wounds and slips away into the ether."Turn Me" is a seemingly melancholy country song -- a modern one, and don't be surprised if some wily producer gets a current "superstar" to record it -- but it's one of the most beautiful and devoted love songs written in the genre in years because of its adult view of love. There's hope, there's surrender, there's willingness to hang in there no matter what. With the gorgeous guitar layers, both acoustic and electric, a harmonium and Wurlitzer, the song is so much bigger than its frame. It enters deeply into the human heart and whispers a truth so profound it's rather remarkable she could get it inside a song. This is not hollow-eyed, empty-headed romanticism, but the real thing. What's a mindblower is that this is merely the first half of the album! The Beatlesque psychedelic pop in "I Will Follow" is full of hidden twists and turns, but they lay in between the layers of instruments as the singer speaks of a kind of blind faith that may be wary, but expresses its lack of choice in that it has to trust the dreams and visions that are her bidders. The existential emptiness in "Something to Say" expresses a kind of loneliness at time's passage, but the tune's melody belies it and sets the two almost against one another. There's hope here, but the hope lies not in the moment, even as it longs for presence of... Read Less