Cara Dillon - After theMorning

Fri 21st Apr, 2006 in Music Reviews

Fear not FasterLouder readers – in lead single Never In A Millon Years, Cara Dillon’s heart is not literally breaking – something that would surely leave her in no state to continue the rest of the song, and remainder of her third album, After the Morning. When Dillon sings “No-one ever told me that my heart could break a hundred thousand times”, she uses the phrase as a metaphor – to convey the feeling of pain inside.  It’s hard to imagine that no one told Dillon of how cruel love can be – a bulk of literature, cinema and a large section of popular music have been devoted to that very topic.  The metaphor of a broken heart is one we’ve heard millions times before.  Has she not heard of Billy Ray Cyrus..?

One suspects the lyric, and other clichés used throughout the opening track, are the result of a concerted effort to create a power ballad earmarked for commercial airplay.  Lyrics that can arrest the attention of fleeting radio listeners, without requiring much thought to deconstruct a meaning, are what’s on order here, and Dillon serves them up dutifully. Collaborator Sam Lakeman backs the track with a suitably sterile accompaniment. With production so shiny, you can almost see your own reflection, the track builds to a predictably lush chorus with vocal overdubs. Lamenting “Every time I look at you I feel the blues” and latter adding, “Never in a million years, I thought these tears, could break a heart of stone”, Dillon aims squarely at the market our very own Delta Goodrem tried to capture – adult contemporary pop, and comes off second best.  It’s an unfortunate start to After the Morning – there’s clearly more to Cara Dillon than broken hearted girl from Ireland with sunny voice; something listeners won’t find if they don’t venture further through the album. 

Dillon is a respected folk singer, capable of composing original material with a timeless feel.  Drawing on her Celtic roots, her work is influenced by Irish folk, not only as a source for material to cover, but also an influence on the rhythm and melody of her original work.  Her sound largely composed of acoustic guitars, piano and percussion, use banjo, accordion and the fiddle to add flourishes to individual tracks.  But it is her voice that is perhaps the most defining feature of her work – sweet, and “angleic” with clear Irish accent, it is the centre piece of the album and arrests the listeners attention

It’s hard not to feel an affinity toward Dillon – with a voice that carryies an incredible warmth, she makes one question why anyone would want to break the girl’s heart in the first place?  Reflecting on the death of her father, On October Winds sees Dillon sing “Take these words ‘so sad you’re leaving’”, take this breath I breathe that’s warm, take these tears so softly falling, take this love forever more”.  Accompanied by only a few piano chords and the strum of an acoustic guitar, the beauty in the track lies with the words she is saying and perfection of her vocal performance, forging a connection with the listener, depicting a sense of sadness. 

It took three years for Dillon to follow-up her critically acclaimed album Sweet Liberty.  She spent a good deal of that time on the road, and one gets a sense that this experience has encouraged Dillon to a broaden her influences on her latest work.  Dillon dabbles in bluegrass and elements of more straightforward pop/rock at times throughout the album.  A country influence is most notable on the track I Wish You Well.  Ben Nicholls’ banjo chimes throughout the chorus providing an interesting interplay.  For a performer who’s music is largely tied to a location, it’s a refreshing change to half expect to hear the twang of a Southern American accent pop up at any minute.  Similiary Grace closes the album with talk of dusty streets, rail road tracks and the soul’s “amazing grace”, sounding more like words from the gospel inspired south, than “Ireland’s lovely green”.    Its’ restrained production – it is predominantly Dillon’s voice and an acoustic guitar we hear, highlights the eventual use of the fiddle on the track – and you can’t get more bluegrass than a fiddle, that’s for sure. 

After the Morning continues the pattern of Dillon’s previous releases, complimenting original compositions with covers of traditional Irish songs.  Dillon handles these covers with great care, treating each track the respect it deserves. These tracks will no doubt be drawcard for Cara’s current fan base.  What is more impressive, however is how well a number of her own compositions sit side by side with these tracks.  Bold Jamie’s tale of love in the face of a father’s disapproval, sees Dillon singing as the all seeing observer.  It has a timeless feel, drawing inspiration from the roots of traditional folk, its narrative like tale, follows strict structures, and is an impressive showcase of both Dillon and Lakeman’s song writing abilities.

Cara Dillon may sit on the wrong side of adult contemporary for some, but After The Morning definitely deserves a better fate than background music at your local Starbucks.  Any fan of the East Coast Blues and Roots Festival will definitely get a kick out of this – just make sure you steer clear of the opening track.