Everything but the Girl's resurrection as a sophisticated electronica outfit may have been unpredictable, but it certainly revitalized the duo's music. Prior to 1996's Walking Wounded, Ben Watt and Tracey Thorn had taken their charming, jazzy acoustic pop as far as it could go. Adding electronica, primarily drum'n'bass and trip-hop, to the equation broke their potential wide open, as the captivating, seductive Walking Wounded proved. It was such a drastic, fulfilling departure that it did raise the question of where they go from here; its 1999 sequel, Temperamental, answers that by offering more of the same, except just a little different. Temperamental tempers the lightly skittering drum'n'bass and eliminates trip-hop, yet retains the same feel as Walking Wounded. House music -- everything from classic '80s house to contemporary house -- serves as the musical foundation, which actually opens the doors for slight jazzy inflections, along with long, hypnotizing instrumental passages (most notably on "Compression"). Weirdly, it also serves as a good setting for a batch of songs that are essentially in the singer/songwriter vein. In fact, there aren't as many clear pop hooks here as there were on Walking. "Five Fathoms," "Tempermental," and a couple of other tracks work as singles, but the album is a more of a meditative, reflective piece, like a singer/songwriter album -- except it's dressed in sultry, evocative electronic dance music. That means, of course, that Temperamental isn't all that different than its predecessor, but its blend of house, electronica, pop, jazz, and folk is equally satisfying as that landmark album. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
With Walking Wounded, Everything but the Girl puts an acceptable face on trip-hop, jungle, and techno, opening up the world of experimental dance music to a new audience. At its core, Everything but the Girl is a pop group, which means it automatically abandons the free-form song structures that characterize most of trip-hop and techno. In a sense, that dilutes the impact of the music, but the duo found a way around that by seamlessly incorporating the rhythms into carefully crafted songs. They work the same ground as Massive Attack, but their songwriting is more accessible and less adventurous than the groundbreaking Bristol group. Furthermore, Everything but the Girl never approaches the tarnished glamour of Portishead, the kineticism of Björk, or the brilliantly evocative soundscapes of Tricky. Essentially, the beats are used as window dressing -- the group's music hasn't changed that much. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
Despite its title, Amplified Heart is one of Everything but the Girl's more acoustic works. A simple instrumentation of guitars and keyboards, augmented here and there by British folk-rock veterans like Richard Thompson, Danny Thompson, and Dave Mattacks, serves to set up a series of songs of romantic disillusionment. Declaring "my life is just an image of a roller coaster, anyway" and "I don't understand anything," among other things, over and over the songs speak of confusion and disappointment deriving from failed love affairs. The approach is much more introspective than that taken on the group's previous album of new music, Worldwide, but Tracey Thorn and Ben Watt's musical restraint supports it well. This is an album to listen to when you've just broken up with your lover, or even when you're just in the mood to think about lost lovers from long ago -- self-pity set to music. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
Acoustic presents two side projects in one. The first half of it consists of Everything but the Girl's covers of six songs by other contemporary performers. The second half contains two live recordings and four re-recordings of songs from Everything but the Girl's repertoire. All of the songs are performed with spare, acoustic instrumentation. The group's favorites are predictable -- Bruce Springsteen, Elvis Costello, and Tom Waits at their quietest -- and while the choices are indisputably good ones -- "Alison," "Downtown Train," Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time" -- they are also familiar, and Ben Watt and Tracey Thorn don't bring anything new to them. Their own material is calm and contemplative anyway, so stripping away the synthesizers doesn't affect the arrangements much. Acoustic is a pleasant-sounding, inessential Everything but the Girl album. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
Ben Watt and Tracey Thorn returned to the direct record-making style of their first two albums on Worldwide. Here, the music was carried largely by Watt's bank of keyboards. But the duo's lyrical concerns reflected their recent frenetic lifestyle. Sooner or later, every group that lasts makes a road album, and this was the one for Everything But the Girl, its songs nostalgically reminiscing about childhood back in England, along with reflections on the big-time touring life in America. Happily, there was still room for a few of Everything But the Girl's complicated adult love songs, notably Thorn's "Understanding," though even that one talked about how love "depends on geography." The breezy subject matter contrasted with the more contemplative music. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
It may have been the logical extension of Everything But The Girl's ersatz cool jazz approach to finally go all the way by hiring veteran producer Tommy LiPuma and a studio full of fusion stars like Joe Sample (the Crusaders), Russell Ferrante (the Yellowjackets), Michael Brecker, and, finally, Stan Getz, whose early '60s albums of Brazilian jazz are a main touchstone for the group. With such firepower, The Language of Life, at least musically, may be the album that Ben Watt and Tracey Thorn have been trying to make from the beginning. But it falls down in its songwriting, largely because of the near-disappearance of Thorn and her edgy lyrics. The title song, with its criticism of uncommunicative men, and "Me and Bobby D," with its name-dropping debunking of some famous roues, are the kind of thing we expect from her, but elsewhere Watt takes over for a series of so-so love songs. And the bottom of the barrel is hit with a cover of Womack And Womack's "Take Me," intended as an erotic come-on and sounding more like a lullaby. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
Thorn and Watt made a couple of albums with a cocktail-jazz backup and one with strings before trying a small unit for the intimate songs of their most accessible recording. The setting is perfect for such moving compositions as "Love Is Here Where I Live" and "Apron Strings." Start here, then go on to the rest of this remarkable group's catalog. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
On their third album, Baby, the Stars Shine Bright, Everything But the Girl tries another departure on their craftsmanlike ballad style, hiring a full orchestra to give a lush backing to songs usually concerned more with sexual than national politics. Their last album, Love Not Money, may have boasted a considerable social agenda, but here Tracey Thorn sings of romantic disappointment and illicit liaisons, only occasionally bowing to such favorite themes as the lure of fame ("Country Mile"), fantasies about American movie stars ("Sugar Finney," which is "for Marilyn Monroe," and has the chorus, "America is free, cheap and easy"), and fears of fascism ("Little Hitler"). Thorn's throbbing voice is well-suited to the emotional concerns of the lyrics, and Ben Watt creates attractive, string- and horn-filled backings for them. So, Everything But the Girl has found yet another way to effectively vary what would have seemed to be a limited musical style. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
On their second album, Everything But the Girl took a more contemporary pop approach while retaining the spareness of their debut. They also upped the ante in their songwriting, tackling a range of issues from the Irish troubles to the troubles of movie star Frances Farmer, with lots of criticism of the stratification and sexism of the current social and economic system thrown in. Tracey Thorn's careworn voice proved an excellent vehicle for such essentially pessimistic sentiments, and even if Love Not Money made for a dour listening experience, it was nevertheless compelling. (The "special U.S. edition" of the album, released by Sire Records, differed from the Blanco Y Negro version from the U.K. in that it featured the pop-sounding "Heaven Help Me" and a cover of the Pretenders' "Kid." Neither enhanced the album's commercial appeal; it made the Top Ten back home, but did not chart Stateside.) ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
The debut effort by multi-instrumentalist Ben Watt and vocalist and songwriter Tracey Thorn took the alterna-pop world by surprise in 1985. And rightfully so. Watt's lush chamber orchestra jazzscapes, full of Brazilian bossa nova structures and airy horn charts, combined with Thorn's throaty alto singing her generation's version of the torch song, was a sure attraction for fans of sophisticated pop and vocal jazz. Featuring 12 tracks, the album has deeply influenced popular song structures since that time; this is evidenced in the work of more R&B-oriented acts such as Swing Out Sister and Tuck and Patti. The set opens with "Each and Everyone," a slow samba-flavored pop song. The song comes from the broken side of love, with Thorn entreating from the heart: "You try to show me heaven but then close the door...Being kind is just a way to keep me under your thumb/And I can cry because that's something we've always done." A trumpet fills her lines and makes them glide above Watt's Latin mix. Elsewhere, the folk bossa of "Fascination" is all the architecture Thorn needs to sink deep into her protagonist's brokenness. Guitars chime and stagger one another, slipping and sliding just above the bassline, and vanish into thin air. On "I Must Confess," a riff similar to "The Girl From Ipanema" locates Thorn next to a deep ringing upright bass and Watt's glissando guitar, played Charlie Byrd-style, before Nigel Nash punctures Thorn's vocal with a velvety tenor solo. Once again, the notion of loss, memory, and the resolve of the left half of a relationship to go on, carrying regret but not remorse, is absolutely breathtaking. Thorn continually meditated on broken relationships here, and that extended tome, which echoes through every song on the record, seems to have resonated with everyone who heard it. The set closes with Watt's vocal on "Soft Touch," a folksy pop song, illustrated with guitars, a fretless bass, and piano, that sounds like something from Supertramp in their better moments -- and no, that's not a bad thing. His voice -- while not nearly as dramatic as Thorn's -- is wonderfully expressive, and his lyrics extend the feeling of Eden to its final whisper. This set proved itself to be an auspicious debut that testified to the beginning of a long and creatively rewarding partnership that has endured. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide