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Sarah McLachlan - Surfacing
Accessorizing
Faith- a review by Jeffrey Overstreet Copyright © 1998 by Jeffrey Overstreet. I was expecting a lot from this effort. I wish I would learn not to expect things of pop stars. McLachlan's last effort, "Fumbling For Ecstasy", stands as one of the most creative, beautiful, hypnotic tapestries of sound released in the 90's. It showed that Sarah was much more than just a Sinead O'Connor wanna-be. She revealed herself to be quite a poet. Fans, new listeners, and critics alike knew that something special was happening. Maybe she listened too much to the hype. Maybe she's taking her time in the spotlight too seriously. "Surfacing"'s Sarah sounds like somebody who can't decide what she wants to do now that she's arrived. In "Building a Mystery" (the strongest song) she wants to be the universal mystic; in "I Love You" she wants to be the Amy Grant sentimentality queen. "Sweet Surrender" sounds like an anthem lifted from K.D. Lang's recent pop efforts. "Angels" comes late in a wave of hit songs about angels, and it's hardly memorable. And when she gets into "counselor" mode, I wince. "We are born innocent/ Believe me, Adia/ We are still innocent...." The message of this song is simple, and worrisome -- she tells her guilt-ridden friend that because everybody makes mistakes nobody should have regrets or guilt. Basically, she excuses everyone of responsibility for their actions, claiming a constant state of innocence. That's a dangerous philosophy. It may comfort, but does it really help? Would she give the same advice to criminals of a higher order? Are we really innocent, and are our crimes really excusable? As she did in "Fumbling Towards Ecstasy", Sarah should stick to pondering through poetry instead of preaching half-baked sermons. And she needs to get serious if she's going to play with spiritual imagery so much in her lyrics. "Surfacing" is a hodge-podge of popular religious references; there's enough questions and references to the supernatural to give her that popular "I've-got-a-spiritual-side" flair, but her cynicism towards traditional Christianity keeps her safe from un-stylish religious identifications. (She boasts of playing with voodoo dolls even as she wears "a cross from a faith that died before Jesus came.") It's religion as an exercise in accessorizing, a sort of spiritual buffet for the non-committal. Like so many pop artists currently scoring on the charts, McLachlan proves that spirituality sells as long as the artist stops short of drawing any conclusions about the truths to which we are responsible. (Brit pop stars Pulp, on their acclaimed new album, somehow justify careening from a sincere little morality-number "Help the Aged" to an anthem of lust like "This is Hardcore".) In the end, no matter how many visions of angels Sarah might have, she's still leaning on her own understanding and resisting faith in any higher power or truth. Ideology aside, the album sounds good, although it lacks the consistency of "Fumbling". Polished, slightly-overproduced, "Surfacing" includes several potential radio hits. Producer Pierre Marchand is not really at fault; it must have been hard to try and sew these disparate pieces together. The grace, poetry, and surprises are missing from the material, so he probably focused on producing a bunch of separate singles rather than a progression. I found the instrumental at the end intriguing, precisely because the music took center stage, and a unique instrument - the saw - brought melancholy without melodrama. "Surfacing" is well worth a listen, but there's a lot of new stuff out there that deserves your sixteen bucks before this. Try Sinead O'Connor's mini-album "Gospel Oak". O'Connor herself has some things to work though before she'll address the truth of Christ rather than the "crimes" of Christendom, but at least her songs focus on the power of love, forgiveness, and true Christian virtues. Sinead's lyrics and melodies will stay with you, soaring vocals threaded through sparse but effective instrumentation. Sarah... take a lesson. Oh well. Next time, I'll have hopes, but no expectations. |
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