Diane Birch

Bible Belt (S-Curve)

By Adrienne Urbanski
Published: June 12th, 2009 | 7:00am

In a few month’s time, Diane Birch will surely be the toast of hipsters everywhere, and selling out shows in Brooklyn’s Williamsburg venues. She has the packaging down pat: the right Cat Power–esque hairdo, an Urban Outfitters–friendly wardrobe, and a blues sound well-shaped by the same producers that brought us Joss Stone — a musical trend that hasn’t yet gone stale in the States. Birch’s method is nothing new: pretty, hip-looking girl sings blues and soul–influenced melodies. However, her sound offers enough to set her apart from the Amy Winehouses, Duffys, and Adeles across the pond that are currently flooding our airwaves and iTunes catalogs.

The title of Birch’s album, Bible Belt, has a double meaning, as Birch is the daughter of a preacher and spent her formative years tromping across the world with her missionary family to places like Zimbabwe, until her family finally settled in Portland. A classically trained pianist, Birch claims to have only recently discovered her singing ability. This seems hard to believe, since her vocal abilities often channel Neko Case, able to sound both ethereal and gritty. Though she’s certainly got the chops, a certain innocence and lack of life experience seems to lurk beneath the lyrics: Birch seems more the spotless ingénue than gritty blues singer reminiscing on her life’s many mistakes. Much like Tori Amos, another piano playing preacher’s daughter, Birch’s music is rife with religious imagery and melodies that would sound at home in a church choir.

The opening track, “Fire Escape,” is by far the album’s standout, a compelling blues number where Birch sings sadly about (what else?) a lost love. Her voice builds to a lovely peak, balancing ethereal highs with smoke and whiskey–laced lows. “What makes the hurt go away? The fire escape?” she asks. The following track, “Valentino” (supposedly written about a long lost imaginary friend) is equally as rousing, bringing to mind the snappy, piano dominated pop of Elton John.

The track “Fools” sounds like a clone of a Carole King song from the '70s, offering little more than an ear pleasing, spot-on imitation. By midpoint, the album loses tempo as it drifts into dreamy ballads — and a few, like “Ariel,” seem to go on just a bit too long. However, rather than offer a new spin on the lyrical and musical stylings of decades past, much the way Jenny Lewis does, Birch seems to offer perfect replications of the soul and blues–tinged melodies.

Even with her too-perfect packaging and trend fulfilling sound, Birch seems to be far more than just a flash in the pan or a well-packaged gimmick. Here’s to hoping that with a bit more living under her belt (surely the newly acquired life of a musician in New York shows promise), Birch will produce something truly original and heart-wrenching.

—