A beauty in songs... Bah.
Anne beams a radiance of sunny roads, pleasant drives to nowhere and almost everything you'd expect. If this sounds nasty, then so be it.
The album peddles on at a steady pace, and by the fourth track you will be a little lost and wonder where the journey has gone and why you can't remember the landscapes you have just passed. So it will be easy to kind of slip into a state of a trance with this album as nothing really peeks out and attacks. This is neither good nor bad in itself, but will be the determining factor the listener will use to either accept or reject.
What could be construed as noteworthy 'bad tracks' include 'Sweet Burden of Youth'; a jangled, movie-soundtrack, soppy and romantic piece of pap, heavily scented with the fumes of joss sticks, up-held lighters and (bad) feminine takes on love, people and other things that swim round the U-Bend of artistry. Give it a minute and you'll want to turn it off, mainly because it goes nowhere and lingers round you like a sad admirer with B.O.
Follower 'Coming To You' is again a lovely ditty that needs to be taken by the scruff of the neck and spoiled. However, if you're feeling in the need for something so gentle and soft, do not want to be challenged in any way, fancy something with a country tinge and, above all, are feeling extremely 'loved up', then you shan't have a single complaint to any of these.
To explain why we should retract claws so to hear out Ms. McCue, take 'Any Minute Now'.
What makes songs like this stand out is that there is a deeper thought behind the rhythm, rather than just strumming out a usual acoustic-led piece of garbage and she displays a willingness to explore her own creativity. The fact that her music is 'nice' cannot be the reason to close her books and sign her off and the fact that every track is given a different quality hints that she is an artist aware, and that is a truly 'beautiful' quality to have.
But as we progress with songs like 'As the Crow Flies' - a Blues Rock standard that follows the old ragtime layout with an Eric Clapton sort of guitar attitude – it is clear that some hurt wouldn't go amiss. With a perfectly recorded sound that keeps nothing out of line (and so very far removed from its origins of scraping guitars and creaking floorboards being stomped by worn heels), Anne somehow even makes Blues a light and carefree thing. For this is the sort of Blues that would be embraced by CBS or Fox News or something equally MAIN. There is a distinct lack of pain and that in itself could offend, especially if you enjoy authenticity and acknowledge the roots of a genre. Oh, and a message for the lead guitarist: stop creaming your licks all over the bloody place. Get a room!
Closely related to K.D. Lang/Jewel with dashes of Counting Crows, the songs are so very traditional and very, very innocuous. You can imagine the case lying open on a glass coffee table in a U.S. apartment, or perhaps an independent coffee shop with candles and warm wallpaper, where you'd be served by bold-hearted workers with styled hair and genuine smiles.
Because of its smooth touch and coasting quality, this release will either collide with instant recognition from mainstream media and middle-class Sunday Spreads, or, because it is so familiar and unwilling to take the reins and bury itself into your head whether you want it or not, will slip unnoticed into the mists of obscurity and rest in the graveyard of the fallen many. Only time will tell for Koala Motel.