Although I have doubts as to the validity of Hannah’s "Fury" moniker, you can’t fault her for blatantly trying to associate feminine aggression and songwriting; as Patti Smith, Ani DiFranco and P.J. Harvey all find themselves at the receiving end of critical lashings for purportedly "going soft", any aspirant follower with an ounce of commercial prowess would make similar amends. Fortunately, The Thing that Feels goes beyond hollow pretenses, fashioning thirteen-songs of subdued introspection and repose -- far removed from the overbearing and ostentatious output that a surname like "Fury" implies.
With its swaying songs of whimsy and woe, The Thing That Feels just may be the next Boys For Pele. Fury and Ms. Amos share a penchant for songs full of whimsical fantasy and eccentric allusions that imply a deep-rooted neurosis just beneath their surface; Gregory Maguire’s novel Wicked, a perspectival reassessment of the Baum classic Wizard of Oz, is even listed as inspiration for five of Fury's songs. The second of these, "I Can’t Let You In", balances a sinuous piano melody atop Fury’s engrossing contralto. Cryptic lyrics sing "I can’t let you in/ the world is falling to pieces". With its overdubbed vocals and intelligent wordplay giving birth to an iconoclastic niche, the track could very well be the album’s creative centerpiece. Other tracks, like "No Like You" and "Meathook", follow in carbon-copied form, while still lending lyrical imagination.
However, after thirteen piano-and-vocal-based songs, tracks that would otherwise be enjoyable standouts suffer from muted emotions, inexorably bringing on the monotony that arises from a strict stylistic adherence. That’s not to say that disc closers "Away" and "The Vampire Waltz" lack the musical gratification that the earlier tracks present, but that they could benefit from something other than Fury’s requisite piano carrying the melody. While a cello interlude briefly permeates one tune, this welcome new "voice" is relegated to rhythmic dawdling.
While Hannah Fury lacks the bristling originality of Patti Smith or the conceptual depth of P.J. Harvey, she has enough raw talent to make a significant mark on the music world. With a more stylistically encompassing approach and a few years' maturation, she could very well be wedged between Sarah McLachlan and Fiona Apple, playing to the Lilith faithful.
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