5 out of 5
Produced by: Shannon Wright (?)
From album to album, Shannon Wright has shown how much she can achieve from the barest of elements: her warble – equally capable of vociferous yelps – and the melodious strumming of guitar, as likely to erupt in distorted riffing. Her lyrics are embracing but personal; powerful, and contemplative.
Perishable Goods maintains that simplicity, and boils it down almost further, to a slim twenty minutes of tracks that are a full album’s worth of emotions and memorable tunes. It finds the artist at her most sing-song and prettiest… and, juxtaposingly, lyrically at her saddest and loneliest. The gentle tones that accompany her depressive descent in hinterland are gorgeous, and thus heartbreaking; the gentleness of Foul and her barebones cover of I Started a Joke continue the parallel tracks of pleasing tunes and a depressing underlying sensibility, which carries through the next few brilliant tunes, including the haunting piano-backed Capsule of You, though here the singer seems to be looking outward again with her thoughts… Closer The Path of Least Persistence brings a certain urgency to its guitar pluckings, and the lyrics cant toward this same struggle to look beyond oneself, suggesting Wright is ready to climb out of this pit and in to some more band-backed, distorted frenzy. The descent, though, has been worth it for a listening, producing such amazing and powerful music that’s fully in line with Wright’s material, but sensibly distilled as this mini-album, packed to the brim with emotionality.