Of Love and Loss intends to make a major statement.
B.B. Cole is aiming big with her second full-length album. She’s teamed with French illustrator Ariane Dudych to package the new release with compelling Tarot card-inspired designs symbolically connected with each of the album’s dozen cuts. Her songwriting intends to take on two central facts in every life, love and loss, in the various guises and trappings taken by these emotions/events. These topics are the bread and butter of creative art, whether it is a song or other forms since humankind first painted cavern walls, and to presuppose you have something worthwhile to sing about these themes is a bold declaration.
Cole has the talent to back it up.
The foundation of that talent is synthesis. “(The Tale of) Lady Primrose” introduces us to Cole’s singular talents for mixing different stylistic elements into something fresh and ear-catching. Marrying the blues-rock idiom with folk song constructs isn’t breaking new ground, per se, but Cole’s duet with Marc Miner puts such a distinctive stamp on otherwise familiar ingredients that you can’t help but keep listening. “Poor Beatrice” has much of the same effect, albeit arrived at in different ways.
WEBSITE: https://bbcole.rocks/
Cole steps back from the crackling rock bluster of the album opener to a folkier, though electric, example of songcraft. It has one of the album’s strongest choruses, and keen-eared listeners will appreciate the searching emotive tone she strikes during the refrain. “Poor Beatrice” leans on its evocative central character, detailed for listeners with deft brushstrokes that allow our imaginations a chance to play. “Close at Hand” rides sprightly melodic charms that never veer into overstatement, and the gospel-influenced vocal arrangement is another key pillar. Cole’s singing leads the way, but buttressing her colorful and commanding voice with an array of backing singers makes for a bigger impact.
“Wave of Love” is a sterling example of Cole bringing sophistication to her art without losing listeners. There’s nothing pretentious about it. The seamless construction of the song draws your attention; there’s a pleasing inevitability in the way Cole and her cohorts shepherd listeners through the performance carefully developing each melodic idea. The pedal steel guitar isn’t omnipresent but leaves a mark on listeners. “The Lion and the Virgin” is a particularly memorable turn. Unifying such a thoughtful and means-more-than-it-says lyric with the deceptive simplicity of the song’s arrangement produces lasting results. Cole measures her poetic touch; the song’s lyrics are never weighed with portentous twaddle passing as deathless verse.
“A Stolen Heart” is another poetic foray. However, the same aesthetic control steering “The Lion and the Virgin” through potential choppy waters guides this track as well. A bluegrass-inspired touch via violin has a transformative effect on the song’s outcome, and the key lines are among the best couplets Cole has yet penned. There’s a near Jimmy Buffett-like flavor threaded throughout the late album track “She’s Not Gonna Do It”. One captivating electric guitar passage after another bookends Cole’s verses with verve and creativity, and drops occasional fills in behind her voice.
“Hide and Seek” feels like a moment where Cole aspires to bring her collected themes together in an impassioned, all-encompassing statement. It’s equally clear that she wants to pull that off without a hint of heavy-handedness. It’s arguably lusher than any other song, but the balance between the musical and vocal never fails. The blurry-eyed dream-like waft of “Coffee Eyes” positions Cole’s singing and pedal steel accompaniment in a gentle dialogue that carries us to a well-crafted conclusion. B.B. Cole’s Of Love and Loss is as fully realized as listeners could hope for,a and one of the best full length releases I’ve heard in recent memory.
Rachel Townsend