A cannonball waiting on a fuse

 I'm not saying that writing this review is one of the main motivating factors for having started this blog in the first place, but I'm not NOT saying that either. Either way, I've been putting it off for far too long, so here we go...


Sherree Chamberlain is the most phenomenal artist you've never heard of.



Ok, that's actually not fair. She's phenomenal whether you've heard of her or not, but you get my point. This lady is based out of Oklahoma City (MY TEAM!!!) and has released what is easily one of the best records of 2009 and probably of the last decade, "The Wasp in the Room."


I have my friend and Oklahoma City music guress (that's a female guru and yes, I made it up) Tommie to thank for introducing me to Ms. Chamberlain's music, and thank her I do. Often. While appearing on her college radio program devoted to local music with my band, she threw one of Sherree's songs into the mix. It wasn't the sort of thing that clubs you over the head and makes you pay attention to it, but it was definitely more than enough to pique my interest.



Once I finally tracked down a copy of "The Wasp..." at Guestroom Records, I put it on my computer right away, but it was a couple of weeks before I finally sat down and listened to it start to finish. At the outset, I was captivated. By the end, I was destroyed. The record starts off with an arresting, verbose tale of an old bird in the twilight of his life (PROTIP: It's not actually about the bird), the arrangement of which only serves to enhance the already intense melodrama. The album ends with Sherree singing unaccompanied, unfurling a stark rumination on the sacrifices she feels she must make as an artist, though at times, it's hard to tell which parts are sincere or sarcastic (or maybe it's all just very sarcastically sincere).



Perhaps one of the things that makes this record work so well is that Chamberlain's voice has a very disarming charm about it which allows her already effective, well-crafted folk-pop songs to penetrate to your core. Case in point, "Circus, Dear," an extended metaphor built around the narrator's first terrifying experience under the Big Top, seems filled with a sense of genuine dread when put through the filter of Sherree's unmistakable voice. The character seems inconsolable as she beseeches "Pray for me." Equally effective is "If You Don't Love Me" which essentially ends the first side of the album (Sherree, if you happen to stumble across this: HINT HINT!!!), where she sings from the perspective of a hopelessly heartbroken man (I think) whose plight is only made all the more gut-wrenching by her flawlessly fractured delivery; a song that I can sympathize with so completely that I'm almost ashamed to admit it.



I'm not asking you, I'm telling you to go to Guestroom in either Norman or OKC and pick up a copy of this record. Like, now. And if you're regionally impaired, there's always iTunes and Amazon.


*edit* Author's Note: This post originally contained streaming audio examples which have been subsequently removed. That's what happens when Mark Zuckerberg feels the site that hosts your files is more valuable to him than to you. YouTube still has plenty of her music up though, so you can always listen there for further clarification.