Regina Spektor – Far Album Review

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Never in my life has nonsense sounded so disarming. A few years back Regina Spektor brought me to my knees (figuratively), and brought tears to my eyes (literally) on a scorching hot August day in Chicago’s own Grant Park for Lollapalooza. At the time, I was pining over a certain cutie whom I knew – and thanks to Regina, she’s off about with somebody else; but I digress. So, needless to say I have a mixture of both animosity and awe for her soaring melodies and chirping hiccups and yelps.

It’s been a while since her last recording, (3 years to be exact) Begin to Hope – and in that time, I would’ve expected her to build upon her previous success, ie, “Samson”, “Fidelity”, and “Better”. Now, although the production has gotten decidedly more refined, with the likes of Mike Elizondo, David Kahne, Jeff Lynne and Garret “Jacknife” Lee at the helm; this uptick in clarity, and in instrumentation does little to enhance Spektor’s greatest quality: her slippery and shifting ambiguous songwriting. Previously, she had the uncanny and highly sought after ability to stop a person in their tracks, to force them to listen without physically demanding it. The songs would beckon questions and answers for the audience – compelling and repelling at the same time, and, in the live show I saw, was accompanied only by a piano. Only certain performers hold that innate power. She has it – but Far doesn’t.

All the ingredients are there, but the final product came out over-cooked. It’s like Michael Bay trying to create Frost/Nixon. The character of things is present, you can feel it, but the over-compressed, obvious builds and releases the music provides ruins the already powerful tension Spektor’s voice demands. Every single sound on the album is completely and totally commercial, but her voice and her lyrics are purposefully not. This juxtaposition works very rarely, but most audiences prefer to lean one way or the other – either completely falling into the weird, or staying safely in Coldplay territory. Unfortunately, due to this tear at the seam therein lies a void – a detached sounding record that neither resonates nor is cause for reflection. Of course, people will argue otherwise, and if you look hard enough, you’ll find what you love, but for my tastes she should’ve gone all Ani DiFranco and got all DIY on this bitch. It’s just more ammo for my “I hate the major labels” grenade launcher…