Take Me Back Where I Belong: The Maturing of Shelley Segal in Song
My Thoughts on Her Releases ‘Strange Beauty’, ‘Forms’ and ‘Holy’. Part 3 in a series.
Some artists have a knack for doing more with less and this has certainly been the case for Shelley in recent years. She has, since the release of her 2015 ‘Strange Feeling’ disc, relied almost exclusively on the shorter form EP format release model as testament to this ideal. ‘Strange Feeling’, and then ‘Forms’ in 2018 and ‘Holy’ in 2019, are all each six songs in total, but these three discs contain what I would consider her most mature works as a singer/songwriter. She seems to have discovered in recent years a more profound sense of soul, which may have been in evidence in her earlier work, but which was by no means overt in those days when she began to explore her musical self and the professional possibilities her talent could facilitate.
They illustrate a sophistication of musical creativity which was hinted at (sometimes quite well) at in her early music, but which, in my opinion, may have been overshadowed by the enthusiasm of her youth and the joyful naivety we all begin with in the midst of our first forays into the Land of the Creatives. Some artists have a sophomore slump, but I think Shelley more than proved with her ‘An Easy Escape’ CD that she’s not here to slump. And her progress from ‘Strange Feeling’ onward proves, to me at least, that she is here to stay…and is more than ready to ‘kill’ us all with her amazing talent at a moments notice.
I call ‘Strange Feeling’ her ‘Autumn in New York’ release, for a very particular reason. Tracking back for a moment to September 11th 2001, I had been awake throughout the night of the 10th and, as is typical of people with sleep disorders, I was inclined to watch a multitude of films in order to ease the tedium of many late hours alone. As the sun broke on the 11th, my film of choice was ‘You’ve Got Mail’ starring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. It’s not a great picture in its own right, but part of the narrative takes place in an Autumn setting and the soundtrack for the film is particularly notable, featuring atmospheric sounds from artists such as Harry Nilsson, The Cranberries and Carole King. Though quite distinct from the songs on the film’s soundtrack, many of the songs on ‘Strange Feeling’ evoke a similar atmosphere, so it is for this reason that I use the ‘Autumn in New York’ metaphor in relation to this release.
The introductory track ‘Background Noises’ starts with a very smooth combination of subtle drums and strings, perhaps a cello, behind a relaxed guitar. This combination so comfortably sets the mood before Shelley comes in at the 30 second mark with a vocal sound I can only describe as sweet but mildly haunting. It’s a fitting description given the poetry she recites about finally moving on from past relationships and finding the strength to embrace something more worthwhile. At around the 2:25 mark, the song shifts gears with an overt horn motif, evoking shades of Herb Alperts’ Tijuana Brass sound. This elevates the tone of the song a degree and serves as the hook of the track, adding a layer of texture before it leads out with a more relaxed version of the mood set during the intro.
The following track ‘Strange Feeling’ evokes shades of the mood generated by the songs on the soundtrack from the 1994 Brandon Lee hit film The Crow. The specific songs that comes to mind, for me at least, are “Golgotha Tenement Blues” by Machines of Loving Grace and “Time Baby III” by Medicine. Amalgamate these two songs and I think you’ll come close to something resembling ‘Strange Feeling’. It becomes something of an interlude, though, when you consider the power of the third track ‘Side-lined’, arguably the ‘hit’ of this release.
With ‘Side-lined’ Shelley makes a very impassioned plea to the world to alter the paradigm of beauty we seem to be craving in ever-greater measure in this mad world of ours. And while I don’t completely agree with her notion that love is, or rather should be, blind, I definitely agree that we’ve taken our notions of real beauty to horrendously absurd depths. Even given that, though, you can’t side-line the real, honest beauty that comes out of songs like this and I hope everyone takes the message to heart. There really is more to life than Maxim cover models…
Musically speaking, this song employs some sounds for which I’m not completely familiar. The short intro kicks in straight away with drums, bass and something I can only describe as a cross between a muted Caribbean drum and an Indian sitar. These instruments do a wonderful job of setting the tone but this is, as they say, merely the beginning. As the song progresses, she builds the overall motif with a decent helping of piano and strings such that the bridge is anchored by an eloquent but rough violin solo.
She follows this with a brief but powerfully sentimental interlude that employs minimal instrumentation to maximize lyrical effect before the song kicks back into high gear for the lead-out. It’s just so amazing how the musical build of this song compliments so well the message of frustration she puts into the words. The music video is a masterwork all on it’s own but it is an afterthought, really, given the sheer power of the song taken as it is.
The EP ends with a shorter version of the intro ‘Background Noises’ but before that, you get two songs that speak of the joys and agonies of love. ‘Leigh’s Song II’ speaks of the longing one feels for that which has passed and the desire to return to that place of comfort, something I can relate to quite easily given events in my life this past decade. Like ‘Strange Feeling’ before it, ‘Leigh’s Song II’ uses the same gradual musical build to make an emotional impact with a superb combination of horns, bass and piano, though to a more somber degree. It also evokes some of the later work of The Beatles in certain places where the musical fills take on a staccato form.
Track five ‘Cinema Chair’ is the track that most puts my mind to the ‘Autumn in New York’ theme I mentioned before. A more mellow composition than the rest, it comes off more experimental than radio-friendly. For starters, it begins with a combination of smooth, slow strings and mid-tempo guitar arpeggios that one could easily see as the background music in a video of autumn leaves falling of the trees in any random grove. The chorus is unconventional in that it merely acts a bridge between the verses and bridge rather than adhering to the traditional forms where the impact is maximized by the chorus and then complimented by the bridge. Lyrically speaking, ‘Cinema Chair’ is little more than an ode to the joys of sweet love but it is no less powerful than the rest of the songs herein given Shelley’s penchant for intricate orchestration and gradual harmonic builds.
In 2016, through a quirk of Federal/State legislation where I live, I was able to begin a course of proper mental health therapy and started putting serious effort into alleviating the depression and anxiety I have dealt with since high school. A couple of notable events occurred during the years in between then and now. For one, I met a singer from overseas who captured my affection in a very profound way. We did some work together and I played a role in the form and execution of the album she released subsequent to our meeting, and even helped shoot some video footage for a media project she had in the works at the time.
Unfortunately, we were incompatible in our cultural perspectives and interpersonal assumptions, and it broke my heart, both musically and literally, when I realized I was feeling something different than she was with regard to our association. As a result, I lost the will to play music ever again and gave up being a musician. In the end, I donated my musical equipment to a charitable organization under the assumption that I’ll never able since to recapture that soul I carried for twenty long years. That’s how final it feels, the loss that comes with this cold realization that I deeply loved someone who didn’t share the same feelings.
At the same time, as a result of the supreme cluster-fuck of a disaster that was the 2016 Presidential Election, I severed ties with a family member for whom I had been investing too much wasted energy over the years. I also, at a later stage severed my ties with my local Atheist community over a severe lack of imagination on their part and decided to invest my energy in validating the self I had been needing to nurture for most of my adult life. I had been giving so much of my power over to others over the course of the last few decades that I was feeling a bit depleted.
In the midst of these things, I veered off course with respect to Shelley’s work and didn’t catch up with her career until the middle of 2020. In the midst of the pandemic, I decided it was only right to spend some of my stimulus money on good music and I’m pleased to report that it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Without Shelley’s work, and the work of one of my other favorite bands ‘The Pierces’, I don’t know that I would have endured as well as I did last summer. Not only does a good regimen of musical therapy go a long way under normal circumstances, but, as many have discovered these last eighteen months, there is something almost life-saving about returning to the familiar, simpler tropes of our lives, and holding on to them with firm hands.
Being an artist, I’m particularly fond of the artwork on the cover of her ‘Forms’ EP. The subtle four-color composition is in keeping with the overall less-is-more motif of her recent work. It has a certain minimalist quality, which I wanted to call a lithograph at first, but I’m not really sure what is the proper word to describe the style. What I can say is that it evokes a kind of Art Deco feel, but in a whimsical, contemporary fashion. Some artists can go overboard with their creations, but I have found over the years that the greater impact can often be made with simple lines and a competent use of a limited color palette, as is the case here.
Of the three releases mentioned in this writing, ‘Forms’ is my number three, for the simple fact that it feels more like a transition release to me, but not because it’s not a great collection of music. Consider it what Richie Sambora’s first solo album was compared to Bon Jovi music from the same era; it’s artistic and soulful, not necessarily radio-friendly. That said, it is every bit the wonderful dose of sophistication with which Shelley began to dabble on ‘Strange Feeling’ and as I’ve listened to the songs, several shades of early ‘90s Guns ‘N Roses have jumped out at me.
I’m not saying it’s as accomplished as their seminal ‘Use Your Illusion’ releases, given that few — if any — musical acts can hope to come close to the masterful orchestration Axl, Slash, Duff and company put out then, but there are many elements within the six songs Shelley offers here which resonate echoes of that era for me, not the least of which is the emotion she puts into these songs. It is very easy for me to see parallels between her style and the way Axl Rose lays on the range of human feeling in songs like ‘Estranged’ or ‘November Rain’.
Lyrically, ‘Forms’ is a fine release, but what really sells it for me is the music; not that Shelley hasn’t written some excellent poetry here though. The best way I feel I can describe the experience is that the vocal and musical punctuation in certain places drives the pace of the release in a way that is quite similar to that on the ‘Use Your Illusion’ records. And the complexity of the instrumentation at certain points is very much in keeping with the artistic quality of a Guns release, track 5 ‘What I Made You’ being a prime example.
Whether this is a result of careful planning in the writing or masterful execution in the recording and mastering process, I can’t say. All I know is that the layered vocal harmonies throughout evoke that sultry, pensive, sometimes angst-ridden mood that is very much a hallmark of Axl Rose as a singer. The drum arrangements, though not the most dominant of musical elements here, feel like a mix of Steven Adler swing and Matt Sorum power in terms of technique and feel, but I would lean toward the latter where ‘Forms’ is concerned.
And the guitar/bass work is classic Izzy/Duff/Slash — a healthy slice of subtle groove, gentle swing, seamless transition and vibrant sonic texture rolled into six beautiful tracks. One thing I’ve always been a fan of, speaking as a musician, is the well-crafted use if arpeggios in music. And Shelley spares no expense using the technique, alongside well-defined power chords, to create some very deep pitched refrains in the score, particularly on the opening track ‘Somebody Like You’ and track 3 ‘I Know, I Know’. And as far as lead work and fills go, I’m all but certain Slash would approve of the recording and mastering work here.
A lot of the lead playing, as with the title track and track 4 ‘10 to 6’, is similar to GnR classics such as ‘Don’t Cry’ and ‘Breakdown’, at least in terms of feeling, if not outright complexity. She ends ‘Forms’, however, with a stripped down lullaby of a song in ‘Around the House’, closing a beautiful collection of music in a very soft and gentle way which, though the least like GnR of any of the tracks herein, more than satisfies and lays the foundation for her work to come.
Shelley’s 2019 EP ‘Holy’ is something of a return to form, at least in activist terms; which is to say that a full half of the songs on this release deal with content that reflects the social awareness of her earlier release ‘An Atheist Album’. She starts the middle trifecta of ‘social issue’ songs with ‘Holy Man’, which is a stern rebuke of the attitudes and assumptions on the part of devout religionists, toward various ‘others’. which tend to leave a bad taste in the mouth of more reasonable people in society. In musical terms, the song is somewhat stripped down, in that it makes an impressive aural display with vocals and bass/percussion dominant in the mix. The beat reminds me very much of songs like KT Tunstall’s ‘Suddenly I see’ or Train’s ‘Hey Soul Sister’.
She closes the threesome with a song called ‘Blood’, which is a lament for the fact that we humans are so prone to othering each other despite the fact that we are virtually the same underneath our skin — we eat the same, we bleed the same, we die the same, etc. It is very much in keeping with ‘Holy Man’ in that it is bass and percussion heavy, also with prominent vocals. And while both songs take a strong, semi-accusatory tone, the middle track in the activist trilogy at the heart of this release stands in stark contrast to the two that frame it. ‘San Antonio’ is a very soft interlude that is anchored by smooth guitar arpeggios and a sweet layering of vocals expressing poetry which juxtaposes the tragedy of a shooting with the beauty of a fine day, as far as the weather is concerned.
‘Here’, track five on the disc, is a an ode to the comfort and safety of a good relationship, which in musical terms, is a bit country in the execution. It is another semi-stripped down offering that kind of reminds me of early Toad the Wet Sprocket, particularly where the guitars are concerned. Track six, simply titled ‘No’, is an interesting upbeat contrast to the rest of the record in that it is a fairly radio-friendly track which, in musical terms, seems to evoke a mix of early ‘90s Alternative influences, and perhaps even a dash of late ‘80s Midnight Oil. Lyrically, it diverges a little as well, where the overall thematic flow of the entire release is concerned.
When taken as a whole, tracks one through five reflect quite well the emotional roller-coaster that was the Trump era — desires for change in the midst of horror, laments, anger, confusion, bewilderment, safety in retreating to places of comfort. ‘No’, on the other hand, seems to be about powerlessness in the face of love…or desire…or…I don’t know. I’m not really sure how to characterize the song, lyrically speaking. In purely musical terms, however, it feels like an after-thought given that it is the most ‘pop’ of all the songs on the release and is by far the most musically straight-forward, to my ears at least.
What brings the whole CD home for me, however, is the way it opens. Anyone who is alive, who has ever wished for a return to simpler times in the midst of pain and struggle, will get ‘Already Gone’ and feel it deep inside. Humans struggle constantly for relevance and belonging in today’s performance-heavy, social media culture, and I think Shelley has always had a sense of this; which is why ‘Already Gone’ is such a magical track, and by far her magnum opus thus far, in my opinion anyway. The manner in which she mixes soft guitar, steady bass, light percussion and sweet, slightly tired vocals evokes for me something akin to a cross between The Grateful Dead and some of the softer Stevie Nicks/Fleetwood Mac offerings.
What I really love though, in musical terms, is the way the bass steps up and down during the chorus in almost perfect sync with her masterful vocal harmonies. It reminds me a lot of something I’ve heard before but I can’t quite put my finger on what…perhaps ‘Sonny Came Home’ by Shawn Colvin or ‘Sorrento Moon’ by Tina Arena…I don’t know…will have to investigate my music collection further to solve this puzzle. That aside, ‘Already Gone’ is the slightly sad, comforting, reassuring hug before the proverbial shit hits the fan, as the cliche goes. It’s probably one of the best songs I’ve heard in a long time…and I’ve heard a great many in my day… If you never listen to any other Shelley Segal music, I highly recommend you make this song your one dip in her musical pool.
‘Holy’ isn’t the most consistent release in terms of execution, and it does feels a little experimental. The stripped down songs definitely clash with the more radio-friendly fare, and the lyrical themes do add to the confusion somewhat, but perhaps that is the point. Maybe we shouldn’t expect consistency from anyone in the midst of the kind of social madness that was the hallmark of the last five years. That said, I appreciate how the EP was packaged, what with all of the excellent photography and the bare-bones use of graphics. ‘Holy’ more than demonstrates, in both form and function, how one remarkable person can do more with less, as I’ve stated previously.
So here we are, back in the present day. Shelley has released a few solo songs in the last two years and is no doubt in the midst of conjuring a new album for all of us to enjoy. And I am still here listening, after a brief lapse of attention, wishing I could stop gushing (maybe) on how much of a joy it has been to experience this woman’s sound over the years. She has given the world a gift that is rare in musical terms. Her songs have taken me back and forth through the many years of musical struggle and many happy and sorrowful memories of my own musical history.
She has validated my sense of musical purity and helped to reaffirm my ‘faith’ as an Atheist, if such a thing is possible. She has evoked smiles and tears and I dare say that if her career were to end tomorrow, I wouldn’t be sad because I could easily sustain myself on the immense emotional and musical integrity she has thus far given. If you care about quality music and enjoy an honest sound, Shelley Segal is definitely one to watch, whether you’re an Atheist or not, musician or not…socially aware, hyper talented, artistically brilliant Homo-Sapien…or not…
For Part 1 in this series, visit this link.
