The type of music that tends to hook me is the kind that surprises me in ensuing tracks. Erin Ivey & The Finest Kind, an Austin-based purveyor of slinky, jazz-accented pop, had me raising my eyebrows often throughout their latest, Broken Gold. Ivey has a smooth and flighty soprano voice with character and a developed songwriting voice. The Finest Kind (Rolf Ordahl on Hammond B3, Ross Alexander on bass and JJ Johnson drumming) play the part of the bubbling bubbling bubbling beneath her cooing manifestos, knowing when to pipe up and when to fall back and let Ivey take the center. Ordahl especially gets to shine on a few tracks.
“Go! Go! Go!,” the record’s fifth track, drops the sultry approach and hits a hard, funky drumkit figure. The real eye-opener is guest rapper Mic Flo on the track, who intersperses verses between Ivey’s catchiest chorus. Newcomers probably don’t think Ivey and the Kind have this in them based on the first four songs, but they’re a band with a lot under the surface.
Elsewhere, the keen sense of yearning expressed in trumpeter Ephraim Owens-accompanied opener “Sorrow No More” would make Beth Gibbons proud. “Chocolate” has Ivey lamenting in French; it’s blatantly sexy. “L.A. Lullaby” is another aggressive percussion attack, but Ivey’s melody and lyric are cosmically-themed. It’s a different flavor that the group wears well.
This is Ivey’s first full-length record since 2007′s The 11th Floor. I am unfamiliar with that record, but I have to believe that this batch of songs presents a strong continued artistic direction for Ivey and The Finest Kind. Even songs that don’t jump out on the first listen, like “Pierre Latour” or “I Always Leave Part of my Heart in Chicago,” have vast emotional wells. The lovely side-B clincher “Broken Gold” is just a heartbreaker.
Broken Gold is a rich album, with enough strong tracks that successive listens can grab the listener at different times. “Little Star,” the penultimate track, features a heavenly choral outro that resembles Jenny Lewis’ “Born Secular,” off Lewis’ 2006 classic Rabbit Fur Coat. Those are pretty lofty heights to attempt, but Ivey’s confidence and talent makes the connection work. The two songs could be cousins – that’s a compliment. This album wears so well that I hope we won’t have to wait another 3 1/2 years for another Erin Ivey & The Finest Kind release.
Final Grade: ****1/2 (out of five)
