Tracy Spuehler: It’s the Sound

You probably know LA singer-songwriter Tracy Spuehler from her relentlessly hummable song, “Where Do We Go?”, that was used in the Nissan ad. You probably don’t know that New Times wrote that her music has “elements of Juliana Hatfield’s little-girl lilt, Aimee Mann’s confessional pop and Liz Phair’s indie-rock feistiness” while still being “charmingly fresh and all her own”. As far as those comparisons go, she’s earthier than Hatfield (no Blake references here), less calmly whiny than Mann can be, and not as clear in her various commonplace dysfunctions as Phair. At least to someone who’s something of a soft touch for Hatfield, wishes Mann would stop making observations and start rockin’, and thinks Phair is the only one among the three who might be a major artist. And, yes, I can tell Spuehler apart from any of her predecessors in a blind test (Spuehler’s slow ones are like Mann without the Berklee-trained melodies but her fast ones, thankfully, have more urgency. Vocally, she resembles — in descending order — Phair, Hatfield, and Mann).

Talking about this new album, Spuehler says that it reflects “an intimate struggle with commitment, communication and the search for emotional connection. I guess it’s my Indie Rock Sex and the City.”

As statement of intent, she nails it (so to speak): the best songs are the ones most comfortable in their own skins, with saying what they have to say and nothing more. Heck, the catchiest song by far is called “Skin Deep”, guitar hooks and bass all pulsing to the shallow-but-genuine angst of not falling in love and not dealing with it emotionally. The lyric signifies and it’s so damn catchy: great pop. The best songs musically (including “Skin Deep”) are also where the lyrical sentiments are clearest. The lead and title track is a tribute to those moments of quiet intimacy, of “your hand against my skin / And of the ticklin’ wind.”

Given the Sex and the City reference, what makes one wonder is what all the introspective slow songs are doing here. In “Caution Tape”, Spuehler sees yellow police tape and relates that to her internal state: “Could it really read my mind?” And that’s even one where the song presents a scenario that can be IDed. In others, Spuehler just, uh, muses. Could it be that, by El Lay standards, Carrie’s misadventures are already as deep as the “intimate struggle with commitment, communication and the search for emotional connection” get? What would Henrik Ibsen think?

The problem is that the appeal of Spuehler’s music is, finally, the music. At least in how the music puts the lyrics across. Of course, it helps that some of the sharpest lyrics are paired to the catchiest melodies, but the melodies are still what makes one notice in the first place.

When it happens in all three of the best songs here, the pairing of good melodies to good lyrics is unlikely to be coincidental. In “It’s the Sound”, she savors lying next to a lover in a quiet moment. “Keep Your Coat On” (as in “Rhymes with, ‘You won’t be staying long'”) offers a “sexy sweet” guy sloppy seconds while underlining that it’s nothing more: “You better be safe / Or you’re gonna be sorry”. “Skin Deep” might be about the same guy falling anyway, declaring his love after the two have been “idling for hours in your car”: “And I felt badly / ‘Cause I knew right there and then / That I couldn’t see you again”.

Maybe Spuehler underrates the importance of the catchiness or thinks that it would be inappropriate for the more reflective tracks, which she instead favors with slower (and vaguer) melodies and slower singing. Nonsense. The best, most interesting reflections usually come from reflecting on actual events instead of free-floating emotions. Besides, even when a lyric alone can sell the song, only snobs would not listen just because their ears want to as much as their brains.

Returning to the Sex and the City comparison, the best songs are the most eventful, the ones where the melodies bounce and there are events (as opposed to thoughts) being described in the lyrics. In all of them, the issue is resolved and Spuehler lets the emotion carry itself without (over)analyzing it to little end. As with the TV show, it comes down to plot. Not plot in terms of saving the world or even psychological profundity, but plot in the sense of action that, if nothing else, gives characters the chance to act and gives us a chance to sympathize or laugh or groan. After all, what would Sex and the City have been if all Carrie had done was write about sex? Or, for that matter, if she had determined to say something profound?

If your attention span is longer than mine, “It’s the Sound”, “Keep Your Coat On”, and “Skin Deep” (and maybe “At the Frank Black Show” and “Broken Melody”) will pull you through the other tracks. But, to my ears, the difference in quality between the three (maybe five) songs mentioned and the rest is such that I’ll be hoping that they all show up on the Tracy Spuehler compilation someday.