Beth Orton Albums (4)
'Comfort of Strangers'
Release Date 2/7/2006
Tracks 14
Label Astralwerks
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
After 2002's somber and overdone Daybreaker, it seemed possible that Beth Orton was losing the focus and freshness that made her so compelling on Trailer Park and Central Reservation. How nice, then, it is to hear those qualities in abundance on Comfort of Strangers, which Orton recorded in just two weeks with producer Jim O'Rourke and percussionist Tim Barnes. She was moved to work with O'Rourke after hearing his eloquently simple Halfway to a Threeway EP, and the folky-yet-sophisticated sound of that release and Insignificance serves as the template for this album, particularly on the slightly twangy "Countenance," which showcases Barnes' subtle, intricately shifting rhythms. Likewise, the melding of acoustic and electric guitars and piano on "Heartlandtruckstop" also sounds quintessentially O'Rourke. Of course, Orton's gorgeous voice and thoughtful lyrics are the stars of Comfort of Strangers, but O'Rourke's work is arguably as much of a draw as Orton's return is. The title track's intriguing mix of programmed and acoustic percussion, marimba, organ, and piano and "Conceived"'s muted electronics nod to both artists' wide-ranging tastes and influences. Though this album is one of Orton's simplest when it comes to sonics, it's still quirky and full of personality. It's also surprisingly concise; some songs, like the uncannily Fiona Apple-esque opener, "Worms," feel like barely more than sketches, but that's precisely what's so appealing about them. Without an overcooked, heavily polished production weighing them down, it's all the easier to connect with Orton's voice and words, particularly on the quietly strong "Shadow of a Doubt," which, like many of her best songs, radiates a unique sense of hope. Indeed, Comfort of Strangers is a happier -- or at least more hopeful -- work than Daybreaker, even on its most poignant tracks. The feeling of sunlight breaking through the clouds recurs throughout the album, whether it's hearing "Feral"'s beautifully smoky folk blossom into something bigger and sweeter, or how "Shopping Trolley"'s incandescent guitars and propulsive drumming make the song even more buoyant. Even "Safe in Your Arms," one of a small handful of true ballads on the album, moves from bittersweet to uplifting without being overly sentimental. One of the comforts of strangers is the fresh start that they offer. This album could be seen as a fresh start for Beth Orton, and she makes the most of it: as artlessly lovely as a spring day, this is some of her simplest work, and simply some of her best, too. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Largely shorn of the energy and ebullience of the preceding Central Reservation, Beth Orton's third LP cuts a far more somber figure -- Daybreaker sacrifices immediacy for uniformity of mood and emotional tenor, and although it's perhaps her most consistent and mature work to date, it's also her least engaging, never matching the dizzying heights of her previous efforts even as it consciously avoids past pitfalls. The attention to detail and nuance that colors these ten songs is undeniably impressive, but in forgoing the electronic elements of before in favor of more organic adornments like strings and guitar drones, Orton's lost some of her originality and unpredictability -- she's very much a traditional singer/songwriter now, and though much of Daybreaker is jaw-droppingly beautiful and brutally poignant, somehow the word "traditional" seems all wrong for any qualified assessment of Orton's music. To its credit, the record's subtleties blossom over repeated listens, and moments like "Thinking About Tomorrow" and the haunting "God's Song" rank with Orton's best, but the album as a whole is so relentlessly dour and down-tempo that it never quite takes flight -- which may well be the point, but it's not a point well-taken. ~ Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
On her stunning sophomore album, Central Reservation, Beth Orton slips free of the electronic textures that colored her acclaimed 1996 debut, Trailer Park, stripping her music down to its raw essentials to produce a work of stark simplicity and rare poignancy. With the exception of a pair of Ben Watt-produced tracks ("Stars All Seem to Weep" and a remix of the title cut), Central Reservation rejects synthetic sounds and beats altogether in favor of an organic atmosphere somewhere between folk, jazz, and the blues; the focal point is instead Orton's evocatively soulful voice, which invests songs like "Sweetest Decline" and "Feel to Believe" with remarkable warmth and honesty. It's a risky move creatively as well as commercially -- after all, the club culture was the first to champion Orton's talents -- but it pays off handsomely; for all its brilliance, elements of Trailer Park already feel dated, but the new material possesses a timelessness that recalls the best of Nick Drake or Sandy Denny, with a haunting beauty to match. And while much has been made of the melancholy that pervades her music, ultimately Central Reservation is first and foremost a record about hope and survival; its emotional centerpiece, the seven-minute "Pass in Time" (a spine-tingling duet with legendary folk-jazz mystic Terry Callier), grapples with the death of Orton's mother, but its underlying message of healing and perseverance is powerfully life-affirming -- her music hasn't merely discovered the light at the end of the tunnel, it's now bathing in it. ~ Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
A folkie for the electronica age, Beth Orton brilliantly bridges the gap between acoustic songcraft and digital dance beats with her extraordinary debut album, Trailer Park. Fusing the plaintive emotional power of the singer/songwriter tradition with the distanced cool of trip-hop rhythms, Orton creates a fresh, distinct, and surprisingly organic sound without obvious precedent; blessed with a warm, ethereal voice capable of adapting comfortably to Spartan folk ("Whenever," a touching cover of the Spector/Greenwich/Barry-penned "I Wish I Never Saw the Sunshine"), buoyant pop ("Live as We Dream," "How Far"), and spacy, densely layered electronica ("Tangent," "Touch Me with Your Love"), she shifts gears with remarkable ease, the depth and clarity of her unique perspective connecting even the most disparate tracks together into a unified whole. Simply put, Trailer Park is one of the most promising and innovative debuts of its era. ~ Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide
