Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Related Stories ...

Most Popular

Reader's Picks

Top Recommendations

A short list of San Francisco's most popular hot spots.
user content provided by: LikeMe.net & SF Weekly

National Features >

  • City Pages

    Michele Bachmann, Unmuzzled

    You don't need to read Sarah Palin's book to hear the ravings of a mad woman.

    By Matt Snyders

  • Miami New Times

    Pimp Daddy

    The rise and fall of a chubby sex-cult leader.

    By Natalie O'Neill

  • Riverfront Times

    Babe 'n' Arms

    Tom was a hot-tempered cross-dresser with a garage full of guns--and then he became Rachel.

    By Nicholas Phillips

  • Dallas Observer

    The Fight for Texas

    Rick Perry and Kay Bailey Hutchison are locked in a battle over the soul of the GOP. They're also running for governor.

    By Sam Merten

Paula Frazer

Leave the Sad Things Behind

Share

  • rss

By Mark Keresman

Published on October 05, 2005

Melancholia comes easier to some than others -- but like most any state of mind, it's what one does with it that counts. S.F.'s Paula Frazer (who fronted altcountry locals Tarnation in the '90s) channels lingering, heart-rending images and stories into evocative songs, virtual minisoundtracks. Her third solo disc, Leave the Sad Things Behind, is a refinement of the "western noir" (or "goth country") of her earlier work. Here we find muted, almost martial drums; ominous electric twang recalling the spaghetti western soundtracks of Ennio Morricone; the distant, lonely wail of steel guitar; elegantly forlorn melodies; and Frazer's very pretty, dignified, Patsy Cline-on-the-prairie vocals. What's new is the fuzz-tone guitar, the mariachi-via-Burt Bacharach horn section, the assertive, optimistic vocal tone of the rolling "No Other," and the jaunty piano and gauzy harmonies of the Velvet Underground-like "It's Not Ordinary." Belle & Sebastian would kill for the animated "Funny Things," with its one-two punch of a chiming '60s folk-rock melody and a chirpy, boy/girl "ba-ba-ba" chorus. Frazer's Sad Things panoramas will not only commiserate with your gloom, they might even comfort you -- a bit.