[rating=6.00]
Beth Orton is no stranger to experimentation. Her early efforts found her collaborating with seminal electronica champions like William Orbit and the Chemical Brothers, raising the stakes for single female singer/songwriters who were eager to redefine themselves apart from the usual narrow stereotypes. Over time she narrowed her ambitions and focused on more on a traditional tack tempered by a newfound folk finesse, a clear move away from the unpredictable approach she went with early on. The masses nodded their approval, but those who saw her as something special worried that she was becoming more content with being common and conventional.
Consequently, her early admirers will be pleased to find Orton’s new album, Kidsticks, finds her returning to her progressive past. Beats and ambiance dominate the mix, and opening track “Show” goes so far as to offer the rumble of a hip hop beat and a much darker density than usual. While some offerings find her in a deliriously mellow space — the bubbly “Moon,” a chipper “1973,” the ethereal drift of “Dawnstar” and “Corduroy Legs” in particular — it’s also clear that Orton is no longer concerned with traditional song structures, opting instead for celestial soundscapes intended to make a more eerie impression. In practice, that strategy can backfire — her music video for the song “1973” was wildly criticized for showing her spray painting a federally protected Joshua Tree and other desert plant life. Lesson learned; if you can’t clearly express what you say in song, don’t let your video send out a mixed message.
At this point in her career, Orton is apparently second guessing herself by reverting to her initial instincts. That’s the absolute right of any artist who favors a creative trajectory. In Orton’s case however, it may prove confusing, especially to those who who have gotten to know her only through her more recent work. All atmosphere and intrigue, Kidsticks clearly comes across as much more than mere child’s play.
