Lisa MitchellIt's strange times when former reality television talent show rejects can shake off the cringes and forge solid careers of their own, foregoing the local RSL Friday night line-ups and assorted other 'special guest' appearances. The few that have escaped the clutches of B-grade fame are unearthing a sound of their own, and no doubt the most successful one to do so is the elfin-faced and sugar-breathed Lisa Mitchell. To use these kinds of descriptions of Mitchell leads to all sorts of dismissive thoughts surrounding Bless This Mess, but it shouldn't; it's simply a further foray into her fable-like way of seeing the world. It's part of her branding, and as before with her debut, it works wonders here.
Opening track, Providence, has spatial, piano-hall magic and sweetly submissive melodic lines showcasing Mitchell at her best. Her vocal skips along a lyric that insists acceptance and reassurance, kicking off her overarching theme in fine form. These simple and sweet moments here and in The Land Beyond The Front Door offer one side of the album's charm, the more layered, rock-driven tracks where she gives a bit more grunt and less fluff. The lead singles are responsible for most of the ballsy moments, Spiritus and the title track, ridden with jagged guitars and a more natural vocal delivery, sounding less like they might be blown away by a puff of air.
There are other highlights on offer; So Much To Say channels a bit of old-school piano ballad chord movements a la Carole King, and the shoegazey ten-minute closer, I Know You're Somewhere, provides some more interesting depth. Overall, a brave step in a far more mature direction.
