The liner notes of Charlotte Martin’s On Your Shore read like a symphony program with close to sixty musicians in all credited, including no fewer than 24 violinists! With such a large supporting cast it might seem that the sweet singing Martin would be overshadowed on her own album. However she takes charge here (her second release in as many years following In Parentheses, released last summer) to the point that it’s rather evident who’s running the show. All of the supporting music, including Martin’s inspired piano playing, manages to ease into the background making it clear that Martin’s voice and that alone is what makes this album cook.
Powerful, sexy and demanding, Charlotte has the ability to hit notes that flirt with disaster, where less confident singers might come off as abrasive and whiney, she somehow delivers with an abundance of confidence and beauty. This self-assuredness in her talents is no more apparent than on the climactic power ballad “Every Time It Rains,” which mixes in pulsing rhythms, a chorus featuring sugar-coated layers of “yeah yeah yeahs,” and the powerful key strokes dropped by Martin which fall like raindrops overflowing from a broken gutter… you know, rock &roll. The lovely
lullaby “Sweet Chariot” might inspire you to search out your baby blanket that’s been in storage since you were three (plus a couple of lonely nights in college you’d rather forget) with the dangerous yet gentle and protective mood it sets. It’s also one of the few tracks that features Charlotte all alone. Just one voice and one piano (okay, okay, an over-dubbed voice in the chorus provides some high-end harmonic support, but work with me here).
And while the multi-instrumental, highly “produced” numbers of this album have more than a few special moments (the raging “Haunted” falls somewhere neatly in the middle of Fiona Apple and Gwen Stefani), it’s these mostly-solo songs that provide the album with its most impressive tracks. Both “Parade On,” accompanied with its gentle string treatment and the riveting cover of the Rolling Stones’ classic, “Wild Horses,” the album’s final cut, are huge successes. Both display Martin’s authority and bring to life emotions you might not knew you had, an ability similarly seen in the late Eva Cassidy.
This album is definitely not for everyone. I expect it probably graces the homes of at least a few confused teenage girls looking for a poetic role model to daydream to, but don’t let that scare you. This album, beneath all its cushy packaging and pure image, has some moments darker than a manic-depressive D&D junky stumbling into a Russian Roulette party a few hours before the pending apocalypse. Dig deep enough and you can find them too. Just don’t forget your blanket.
