I originally submitted this review for inclusion in a local music publication (at the editor's request), but it wasn't accepted for whatever reason.  (I have yet to receive an acknowledgement that they even received the thing to begin with, despite several follow-up attempts on my part - their loss!)  So, to make sure that the time I spent working on it wasn't in vain, I'm putting it up here.  Enjoy!

Veda Hille, Spine (Reissued 1998, Bottom Line Records)

Vancouver native Veda Hille (pronounced "hilly") has a thing for anatomy.  Her official web site is adorned with figures looking to be out of old medical texts; her debut CD was called Path Of A Body; and the followup, Spine, which has just been released in America by Bottom Line Records, features in its jewel booklet a series of photographs of the artist removing a label which looks to have been sewn onto her bare back.  Once you get past that rather startling imagery, though, 44 minutes of brilliantly spare music await you.

From the vaguely middle-eastern rhythms of "Slumber Queen" to the driving catharsis of "Bellyfish" and the stunning beauty of "26 Years", this is music that lives up to Hille's own description of her work: "jazz angular pop beautiful".  Her instruments are the piano, which she plays with near-virtuoso skill, and a handmade 4-string tenor guitar.  She is accompanied by cello, electric guitar, bass, drums and various forms of percussion, and even a musical saw, and she has a penchant for odd time signatures (literally: some songs are in five, others in seven).  Her music has been called "minimalist", though she does manage to get a lot of sound out of few instruments.  All of this provides a stark backdrop for her matter-of-fact vocals, which have an inflection reminiscent of Sarah McLachlan, albeit without Sarah's soaring breathiness.

What Hille sings is just as engaging as her musical accompaniment: lyrics that avoid being obtuse, yet require time to digest.  In "One Hot Summer" she notes, "god knows that my mouth holds more teeth than wisdom", but once you've stopped to think for a while you find that there is something not unlike wisdom in observations like "my heart is busted from enthusiastic overuse" and "we are all awkward in this world unknown".  She even provides some helpful "INSTRUCTIONS", for example "15. Don't think of it as reasonable, think of it as terrifying.  16. When blinded, construct images around unknown sounds, and assume you are correct." And of course there are the occasional references to body parts, with a requisite amount of morbidity thrown in ("your death is a white car, that light won't be red for long", from the aptly titled "Six Feet Of Silence").

The sum of these parts equals a truly unique album which is indeed, to take some words from "26 Years", both beautiful and fierce.  One can hope this is the beginning of a long and illustrious career down here south of the border.  The good news is that Hille has practically adopted New York as a second home.  Guess what: as wonderful as Spine is, she's even better live.



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