Sixpence None the Richer

Item: Sixpence None the Richer
Author: Lisa Reid / Matt Laswell

(1997)

Reviewed by Lisa Reid / Matt Laswell

Discogs Apple Music TIDAL Amazon Music Spotify YouTube Music

Label Squint EntertainmentThe Phantom Tollbooth1997

adult alternative alternative rock folk rock indie pop

The new Sixpence release sounds nothing like the last one.

Why does it seem like we've heard that before?

Just as the jangly modern rock of 1995's This Beautiful Mess marked a departure from the alternafolk of the band's debut The Fatherless and the Widow, so the much-anticipated Sixpence None the Richer is a step in yet another direction. Once again, the band has managed to transform its sound into something that is unquestionably different from anything they've done before, and yet unmistakably Sixpence.

Musically, the entire album is quite complex. From the warbling synthesizers in the background of the album's opening track, "We Have Forgotten," to the pizzicato strings on the melancholy "Anything" to the use of the hurdy gurdy (courtesy of John Mark Painter) on several other tracks, this album is marked by rich orchestrations which layer texture upon texture to build a solid groove.

While there are few songs beyond the first single "Love" which seem well-suited to radio airplay--the melancholy feel of the music doesn't fit with the standard CCM format, and the tunes might be too mellow for Christian Rock Radio--the complexity of the music and lyrics will keep listeners coming back for more. More than most releases, this album's appeal grows over time as its beauty becomes increasingly apparent.

This is mood music, and lead singer Leigh Nash's plaintive soprano is put to superb use. Nash is no Fleming McWilliams (who is?), but her vocals are the perfect match to Matt Slocum's music and Steve Taylor's production. She ranges from angst-ridden desperation to ethereal little-girl-wispiness to an outright wail. What's impressive is her ability to use such desperate styles to effectively convey the mood of the songs.

The lyrics on Sixpence None the Richer contribute to the mood as well, serving as a documentary of the band's break from R.E.X. Records and the legal and artistic limbo which accompanied it. The CD represents a journey for the band, and they invite the listener to come along. They just don't promise that the trip will be a pretty one.

The listener is baptized into the theme of the album early on via the first three songs, which blend together into one connected piece. The trilogy opens with the lyricist worried that he has grown too comfortable with his state, worrying that "We have forgotten... how it used to be" and wondering "am I in love with this... My constant broken ship?" He faces the sobering loss of youthful innocence, wistfully recalling past ideals which are being shed from his life like childhood toys:

Dreams, inconsistent angel things,
horses bred with star-laced wings,
but it's so hard to make them fly, fly, fly

The second song continues this exploration with a bitter depiction of the band's situation during the later years of the R.E.X. Records contract:

This is my forty-fifth depressing tune.
They're looking for money as they clean my artistic womb.

Throughout the lyric, the band wonders "if we should pack our tents, shut down the show" and hopes for "a burning bush-type sign." But the final song in the trilogy has the band "in the waiting room of the world" and resolved that "we will wait until you call our name out loud."

It is this pattern of depression mixed with hope which typifies the lyrics on Sixpence None the Richer. Many of the songs are focused around desperation and dryness; a couple make the listener wonder how close the band was to throwing in the towel altogether. They reflect frustration and a sense that Sixpence's artistic efforts were being prostituted. Nowhere is this theme better expressed than the Pablo Neruda-penned "Puedo Escribir."

The exiled poet's theme--the fear of becoming a show pony for sadness and depression at the expense of real artistic freedom--rings particularly true for Sixpence. Similarly the band's time in limbo with their record label mirrors Neruda's experience as an exile.

To label the lyrics as simply angst-filled or bitter, however, would be to miss out on the real quality of the work Matt and company have accomplished. They are unwilling to simply capitulate to the formulaic angst which is so common on alternative radio stations. They refuse to abandon hope or paint themselves as "that band that writes sad songs all the time."

As the album progresses, this hope becomes more apparent. By the end, the listener finds the band, if not exactly happy, then at least resolved:

I'm moving on...
I can sing about the night...
I will not let them ruin me again

They haven't yet reached the end of their travails, but they have faced the worst the storm can throw at them and find themselves still standing. Refreshingly, Sixpence refuses to write "I had trouble but Jesus made it all better and I'm happy now" lyrics, avoiding that standard Christian pop radio pitfall.

All in all, Sixpence None the Richer is an album the band members can be proud of and which discerning listeners can appreciate. It is easily one of the strongest Christian releases in 1997, but be warned--anyone who buys it expecting to hear the up-tempo distortion of "Love, Salvation and the Fear of Death" or the innocent romance of "Field of Flowers" will be disappointed. Those who come with open minds will be treated to a rewarding musical and spiritual journey unique to the Christian marketplace.

You see, the new Sixpence release sounds nothing like the last one. And that's not a bad thing.