Rachael Sage

“Discovering” exciting new musicians is an all-too-rare experience. It is made all the more interesting when one listens to a new album by the said musician, is favorably impressed, then learns it is actually the seventh album released by that musician. Such was the case upon hearing New York-based Rachael Sage’s The Blistering Sun.

The Blistering Sun is a polished work by a singer/songwriter whose recorded work stretches back to 1996. The album is lyrically diverse, with lovelorn musing, reflections on stardom (as in “Hit Song,” in which Sage contemplates the release of a hit song), and historical exploration, such as in “93 Maidens,” a song based on the letters of Chaya Feldman, a Jewish teenager who chose suicide over capture by the Nazis.

Sage’s voice carries a sweetness that never seems to edge too close to the saccharine, an endearing earnestness, and at times, a heart-wrenching honesty that seems to cut through the album’s obviously polished production. The instrumentation is well flushed out, though piano plays a key – and pleasing – part. Comparisons could surely be made, at times, to Jonatha Brooke, a less volatile Ani DiFranco, or a mellow Tori Amos, but to be fair, none would be a particularly accurate association. The Blistering Sun is a refreshing, enjoyable listen – and one that will, according to the singer’s website, soon be complemented by an U.S. and European tour.