Land of Talk's debut album, Applause Cheer Boo Hiss, was an impressive collection of explosive hooks wound tightly around the voice of Elizabeth Powell. On their first proper full-length album, Some Are Lakes, the incendiary riffs are replaced by more haunting textures focused on lonelier themes.
The opening track, Yuppy Flu,"" features a drum and bass introduction that rolls out the red carpet for the band's focal point: singer/songwriter/guitarist Elizabeth Powell. Powell's rousing guitar announces itself in a tremor of reserved triumph that carries the song to an impressive height. Unfortunately, the rest of the album struggles to measure up.
Whereas on Land of Talk's debut release the songs were driven by booming riffs, Some Are Lakes carries a more emotive, self-reflective tone. Without the hooks to carry the melodies, tracks like ""The Man Who Breaks Things (Dark Shuffle)"" and ""Give Me Back My Heart Attack"" never take off.
Whether it is the new jam ""Corner Phone"" or ""Young Bridge,"" Some Are Lakes never gives up. The intimacy of ""It's Okay"" is both welcoming and soothing. Taking a page from producer/boyfriend Justin Vernon's (Bon Iver) book, Powell showcases her heartbreaking lyrics in a subtle ensemble of timidity.
The album's title track is a milestone for Land of Talk. ""Some Are Lakes"" presents the ideal synthesis of unbridled rock and measured, poignant themes. If Powell's voice sounds mumbled when she sings, ""I'll love you like I love you, then I'll die,"" it's because she's singing with her heart in her throat. This type of emotional openness was absent in their debut and ultimately ties this record together.
Vernon's production is probably the key ingredient to the smooth texture on the album, mostly for the better. Although Some Are Lakes forfeits much of the enthusiasm of Applause Cheer Boo Hiss, it showcases Powell's songwriting.
The story of Land of Talk is that of a female songwriter finding herself amidst the murky waters of lady-driven rock. Throughout her last two releases with Land of Talk, Powell has emerged as a new breed of female songwriter. She's more rock 'n' roll than Cat Power, but less riot girl than Be Your Own Pet; more introverted than Joan Jett, but less inhibited than Karen O. Both speaking sonically and of talent, Powell is a more existential Liz Phair.
By pulling back on the reigns, Powell has manifested a persona hardly recognized since Sleater-Kinney and Liz Phair herself. Some Are Lakes is a rousing triumph of one female singer/songwriter transcending the unfair boundaries of a ""female rocker"" and proving she belongs in the same context as all accomplished singer/songwriters, male and female alike.
