|   This is My Voice Canadian Musician - v. 12 no. 1 - Feb 1990)by Howard Druckman
 
  "This may sound weird, but I felt limited a bit by being 
        Jane Siberry. So anything that reminded me of me, I would reject. It still 
        sounds like me, but in a fresh direction. It wasn't just to change styles, 
        but I felt it would be redundant to do something Jane Siberry-ish." It's a change that's been roundly welcomed by Canadian radio programmers, 
        critics and listeners alike. After enjoying steady gains among all three 
        segments throughout the '80s, 1987's The Walking - a complex work 
        of lengthy songs and quirky imagery - met with less airplay, harsher reviews, 
        and poorer sales than its predecessors. "Beauty" is being viewed, 
        in all quarters, as a big step in the right direction. The critical line is that it's a return to Siberry's folkie roots 
        - the sort of sound she offered while playing the Southern Ontario coffee-house 
        circuit in the early '80s. Though she did start to play folk festivals 
        again last summer, Siberry doesn't see the album as a regressive move. "It's not really a return, but the next step forward," 
        she says. "There's lots of acoustic guitars and piano on The Walking, 
        too. And there's also electric guitars and bass on Bound by the Beauty. 
        I think the difference is that there's very little use of "sustain" 
        on this record, which you get through synthesizer pads and harmony vocals. 
        So it opens it right up when you take those away." Instead of masking her vocal insecurities by providing multi-plexed 
        harmonies, Siberry now seems confident enough to sing alone in simpler 
        settings. "There were moments when I just wanted to say 'Weeeeeell, 
        it'd sound better if I doubled it, my voice sounds weak there.' But I 
        just kept saying 'No, this is my voice. So there!' In 'Bound by the Beauty' 
        and 'The Life is the Red Wagon' there's a lot of vocal overdubbing, but 
        mostly it's just stripped down to one vocal." Another major change on Beauty is the use of new musicians 
        - former k.d. lang pianist Teddy Borowecki, and Shuffle Demon drummer 
        Stitch Winston. "I needed something different on this album," says Siberry. 
        "Musically, I wanted to have people playing in known styles. I wasn't 
        looking for'character' playing. I was looking to keep the music really 
        conventional, so I looked for people who were really hot in those styles. 
        Teddy is just an unbelievable player. His accordion playing and piano 
        solo on 'Are We Dancing Now?' is just amazing to me." Despite the simpler context, there's a lot of experimentation 
        on the record. The title track, "Something About Trains" and 
        "Everything Reminds Me of My Dog" all offer a loping, country-ish 
        feel fuelled by an acoustic guitar strum; "Half Angel Half Eagle" 
        is a more terrifying song than Siberry's ever recorded, filled with danger, 
        consequence and a nasty murder (listening to it is like sitting through 
        the movie Talk Radio); both "Half Angel" and "The 
        Valley" were partly inspired by the neighbourhood surroundings of 
        Siberry's new flat, in the warehouse district of Queen Street West; the 
        Latin stylings of "Miss Punta Blanca" and "Are We Dancing 
        Now?" are more obviously, gracefully sensual than I would ever have 
        imagined Siberry could be. "I had some neighbours living beside me, three guys from 
        South America," she explains. "They'd play Spanish music, and 
        every time I'd stop playing, their music would come through, so I heard 
        it all winter. They moved out, but they gave me a tape before they left. 
        Normally I'd reject doing any music that seemed stylized, because it wouldn't 
        seem like I was working hard enough. But in this case it was just fine, 
        and something different happened. "In the mixing approach for the record, it was really bothering 
        me hearing this disembodied head on one side and the guitar on the other, 
        with nothing connected. I love playing together in one room with the band, 
        and I wanted to hear it like that. No drummer has his kit as spread out 
        as it sounds on the record. So it became sonically more matched to the 
        physical space, which I really like. My guitar is always in the middle, 
        and you don't hear the stereo as much. "This time, I just didn't worry about things. All of a sudden, 
        I decided I could use any kind of music on this record, so it opened all 
        these doors. I feel freer now that I'm not trying to hold down a complicated 
        melody and make it seem simple to people. Things are simple, so I feel 
        freer. Something good is happening, and I don't know what it is, but I 
        trust my gut feeling. It's just an intuitive thing." That same spirit of open simplicity started in the songwriting 
        process. "I wrote words and phrases all the time on tour. In September 
        (1988) I started the actual writing, and it was the greatest fall. I'd 
        just get up every morning, turn on my sound board, pick up my electric 
        guitar and coffee, and start playing anything that I felt like. Just playing 
        for the fun of it, doing some exercises. Then I started recording things 
        I liked, and later tried to put things together." This time out, Siberry decided to mold the songs on tour before 
        recording. Backed only by her longtime guitarist Ken Myhr, she played 
        the aforementioned folk festivals and other mostly-acoustic gigs last 
        summer (including an excellent week at Toronto's Premiere Dance Theatre, 
        where even a case of laryngitis on opening night couldn't dampen her enthusiasm 
        - or that of the crowd). "It's best for me to tour and then record," she says. 
        "I like to go out with a half-baked idea, just wing it, and then 
        have it find its own place. To make that leap to the final version is 
        really hard and frustrating for me, because I can't decide finally on 
        the lyrics. It was such a pleasure to be able to do that this summer. 
        The songs were better because of it. Even after three shows, I felt they 
        matured a bit." Siberry's songs have hardly made her rich - not yet, anyway. The 
        only royalties she's pocketed are live performance rights. Those from 
        record sales and radio airplay go toward recouping recording costs, and 
        per diems. Touring only with Ken Myhr and recording at Orchard Sound are 
        money-wise steps that make business sense - and emotional sense - to her. "I wanted to make an inexpensive record, and I want to make 
        inexpensive videos. I can't stand all the waste - it just smells of corporate 
        greed. And it unhooks you from other people. They think that you're a 
        foreign species, and you lose you believability. I think it's really good 
        to show that you can do things that are still from the street level. It's 
        good for you to have the opportunity to spend $200,000, and then not do 
        it." Though Siberry remains on Duke Street Records in Canada (her original 
        label) she's now signed to Warner Brothers for worldwide release. After 
        'New Age' label Windham Hill distributed 1984's No Borders Here 
        and '85's Speckless Sky in the U.S., Siberry signed with Warner. 
        But they had to buy out the final album of Windham's three-record deal, 
        to the tune of more than $100,000. If The Walking didn't exactly 
        thrill Warner's promo staff, they're having a considerably easier time 
        with "Beauty". "I feel very secure at Warner Brothers," says Siberry. 
        "I like the people there. I've never run into their cold steel machinery, 
        though I know it's there. So far, everything's been really kosher, respectful, 
        and gracious, but they are a big machine. If anything, they just have 
        their shit together so that things are done properly - interviews, artwork. 
        They were quite pleasantly surprised by this record; they didn't expect 
        it. So I have to keep telling them not to expect it again, 'cause they 
        get used to one thing. "So far, I think they expect me to do what I want. And that," 
        she says happily, "is a good thing."   
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