Innocence Mission and Stephen Delopoulos, reviewed

The Innocence Mission
Befriended
Badman (US)/Agenda (UK), 2003

A solitary boy oblivious to his impending surprise party, a lost loved one, clouds transforming into reindeer, a pensive brother, an open runway where anything is possible — Befriended, the latest offering by Pennsylvania's The Innocence Mission, overflows with evocative stories. With the least phrase, they effortlessly create worlds of grateful heartache and hard-won joy. Spare yet fully realized arrangements of guitar, piano, and bass lovingly bring the lyrics to life, infusing them with vibrant candor and warmth.

Opening with the wistful "Tomorrow On The Runway," singer Karen Peris confesses, "Oh I want to fly, fly forward into the light, / be alive, to come alive." Secret wishes spill into the still air, pulling the listener into the song's expectancy in a mere few bars. A growing confidence seeps into the subsequent songs, culminating in the declarative "Look For Me As You Go By," whose chiming guitars and resonant piano answers the plea of the initial track.

A sense of awakening spring pervades the album, as well as the pain of growth and the change that it necessitates. "I Never Knew You From The Sun" is a poignant elegy for a departed loved-one; a forthright admission of loss — spare in its honesty, but never plaintive. Amazingly enough, the striding, barely contained verve of "Beautiful Change" does not contradict the plain grief of the previous track. They are harmoniously paired, revealing how true gladness isn't a mockery of pain, but rather its possible fulfillment.

The shy confidence of "One For Sorrow, Two For Joy" proves the clarity of perception that's ours when we love. "Sweep Down Early" gamely flirts with a winning eagerness that never becomes impatient. In "Walking Around," she tells us, "Some boy I knew said, Hang on, stay gold, / before he left here for England." In two lines she evokes S. E. Hinton, Robert Frost, and their own debut album (is this possibly the brother in "Curious?").

The Innocence Mission's brilliant alchemy of word and softly exuberant music explores the moments of our existence that hover on the outskirts of articulate comprehension. Nothing is ever truly lost; we're made witnesses of a hope that defies sentimental definition. With graceful tenacity, Peris sings, "You know I've had enough of this trouble / following me high and low. Now it can go." Or as Emily Dickinson once wrote, "Faith slips — and laughs, and rallies." Hope is a decision as well as a gift. With this new work, The Innocence Mission reasserts the quiet strength inherent in all joy.

-amc

Steven Delopoulos
Me Died Blue
eb+flo Records, 2003

Venturing on his own, Steven Delopoulos, the singer from Burlap to Cashmere, has brought forth little to be excited about in his first release "Me Died Blue." The album lacks the defining qualities that make a body of music substantial.

The solo attempt by Delopoulos has quietly thrust into the music scene what could be described as a piece of his soul. It is his effort to mirror the struggles of life and describe the journey through flux. Lyrically, the album is nearly without fault. The expressions border on poetic narrations: "Hide away/Cellar wine and wooden doors/Shadows dancing on her floor/Here I go again."

"Me Died Blue" is a blend of soothing vocals and intricate picking, to upbeat strums and playing musical chairs with strange vocal strains. The diversity is quite interesting, but unfortunately it leaves the listener confused and pondering because there's no specific style to pinpoint.

Starting with the first two tracks, "Another Day" and "Jungle Trail," Delopoulos begins the descent into obscurity. The songs have what we may call "the sound that is Delopoulos." This calm, rhythmic style and the direct lyrics are reminiscent of philosophical introspection that is often found among the singer/songwriter confessional albums. Alas, that expectation is shattered by the next two tracks, "12 West Front Street" and "Me Died Blue," which propel the listener into the previously mentioned state of confusion, landing somewhere between trying to excavate the identifying message and the intentions of the artist. The album starts to become a little disappointing.

Returning to a calmer style in "Here I Go Again" and "Daisies and Sandalwood," an experimental flavor begins to surface. Delopoulos has successfully refrained from creating his own distinct style through the use of diversity. The last half continues in the same manner.

In a noble attempt to define himself, Delopoulos does manage to lack predictability, but only because the overall feeling is so scattered. "Me Died Blue" is an album that is convincingly too much of a good thing.

-ced

Reviewers: Ana Maria Correa and Carly E Diaz