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MUSIC REVIEW: The Roches
Ken Richardson
What if they'd been called the Yankee Chicks ... ?
But no, these three sisters from deepest New Jersey call themselves after their last name. And as they first told us on Track 1 of their self-titled debut, way back in 1979, "We spell our last name R-O-C-H-E" — and that rhymes with roach. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but when it comes to the now nearly 30-year recording career of the Roches, the question that most often comes up is indeed: What if?
Forget about naming; let's talk about timing. What if The Roches, instead of being released in the heyday of London Calling and Armed Forces, had appeared nine years earlier in the heyday of Ladies of the Canyon and Sweet Baby James? Would the trio have been as big as those singing/songwriting folkies while revolutionizing the genre at the same time? Of course, the Roches needed to absorb the various influences of those nine years — especially the street smarts of their adopted home, New York City — before they could make an album as truly revolutionary as The Roches. So, enough with the What Ifs.
As it is, The New York Times named The Roches its Record of the Year for 1979. Maggie, Terre, and Suzzy developed a following, but it never went beyond a cult — and although their third record, 1982's Keep On Doing, was another landmark, the albums that followed were mostly hit-and-miss. And none of them were hits.
Which makes it especially gratifying to say that Moonswept, the trio's first album in 12 years, is also their best album in 18 years — since 1989, that is, when Speak was arguably the last time the Roches were still keeping on doing what they did best.
True, not counting their Christmas and children's records (1990's We Three Kings, 1994's Will You Be My Friend), they released only two albums after that: 1992's A Dove and 1995's Can We Go Home Now. But counting the various projects that came after that — Terre's The Sound of a Tree Falling, Suzzy's Holy Smokes and Songs from an Unmarried Housewife and Mother, Greenwich Village, USA, Suzzy and Maggie's Zero Church and Why the Long Face — a lot of Roche-like music has gone under the bridge in those 18 years. Which makes it even more satisfying to say, hallelujah! Moonswept is the real Roche thing, already in the running for Comeback of This Year.
After all, following the heights of Speak — including Maggie's haunting "Nocturne," one of her best songs ever — it was difficult to get enthused about the bland confections that dominated Dove and Home. By that time, the Roches had mostly abandoned their own eccentric acoustic guitars in favor of backup musicians who, though skilled, simply toed the line in Stewart Lerman's wimpy, glossy pop production. It didn't help that the songs were getting progressively midtempo until, on Home, a couple of tracks were so downtempo that they each dragged on for nearly 9 minutes — including Maggie's story about "My Winter Coat," which, back in the day, would've been played for a quick laugh. C'mon, ladies, why the long, long phrases?
Well, we could forgive the Roches for being downbeat, as their father had just died while they were on tour. (Can We Go Home Now indeed.) But to hear them go out with a whimper was difficult for dedicated fans to take. I remember one of the Roches, early-to-midcareer, saying that they didn't realize how difficult it would be to maintain a career. Just look at Maggie alone, the onetime rock of the Roches: She singlehandedly wrote half of the debut's ten songs, but then she was down to three, then two, and then, by the time of 1985's Another World, zero (although she co-wrote a handful of tracks). She had a major resurgence on Speak but started fading away again on Dove and Home — at which point, when the harsh reality of life, death, and maintaining a career as a trio switched on its light so glaringly, the Roches scattered. Suzzy and Maggie did reunite for their pair of albums, but Zero Church, though admirable, was a theme record (adapting prayers and hymns), and Why the Long Face had a heavy dose of covers — including, for some reason, two self-covers, "One Season" (from 1980's Nurds) and "La Vie C'est La Vie" (from the 1986 EP No Trespassing).
SWEPT AWAY
So hearing Moonswept — 11 of whose 14 tracks are fresh originals — is to hear the Roches getting their groove back big-time. Alas, Maggie hasn't gotten her songwriting back: She only contributes the music for "Family of Bones" and "Stop Performing," but the former tune is richly elegant, the latter nice and sly. And everywhere on this album, Maggie is the anchor for the three-part vocals that, at long last, recall the adventurous ubiquity of the harmonies on The Roches and Keep On Doing.
Thankfully, in the absence of Maggie's pen, Terre and Suzzy have risen to the challenge with some of their strongest work. It's particularly wonderful to hear Suzzy, who has been known to get rather twee, writing fully mature music and lyrics. Appropriately, she leads off Moonswept with "Us Little Kids," at once a childhood recollection and an adult reconciliation. It's instantly likeable, as Suzzy displays newfound knacks for hooks and clarity. In fact, on "Family of Bones" and the title track, her lyrics have not only sharpened but damn near haiku-ed.
Terre's three self-written songs, simply put, are among her best. "Gung Ho" is the kind of carefree comedy that she used to seemingly toss off with ease. And at the other end of the emotional spectrum, she references 9/11 in both "Only You Know How" ("Did you ever take a walk to the edge of town / Back before the airplanes came and took the buildings down") and "September Eleventh at the Shambhala Center." The former has one of the album's best examples of the Roches' revivified melodies and harmonies. And "September Eleventh" — well, this is actually 9/11/02, with Terre looking back from that first anniversary and trying to comfort adults, children, and the newborn. Her words are sage, and her tune is heartbreakingly beautiful, enough to mist the eyes. I speak from experience.
Terre and Suzzy used to write together, too, and here they team up again for "Piggy Mask" (referencing a scene from Roman Polanski's Bitter Moon), "Instead I Chose" (a shimmering tale of, well, What Ifs), and a classic bit of typical-Roche-atypical-humor called "Huh." Sure is great to have that humor back, even if the two best laughs on Moonswept are covers: "No Shoes" and "Jesus Shaves," both written by one "Paranoid Larry." Still, there was a time when the Roches knew how to make covers their own ("Factory Girl," "On the Road to Fairfax County," "Clothes Line Saga"), and they do it here by giving "No Shoes" an irresistibly arched vocal hook and by telling "Jesus Shaves" in their delicious deadpan before blossoming on the choruses. They also go back to 1954 for the Ames Brothers' No. 3 hit "The Naughty Lady of Shady Lane," one of the first songs the sisters learned to sing. And they go forward, as it were, with Roche "sister" No. 4 — actually, Lucy Wainwright Roche, daughter of Suzzy and Loudon Wainwright III (and half-sister of Rufus Wainwright), who contributes and sings "Long Before" in the voice of an angel.
What makes Moonswept even more validating is that returning producer Lerman has finally ditched the backing bands and allowed the Roches to be the Roches. The trio has never really sounded "right" with a bunch of musicians, even when, on Nurds, they included Television bassist Fred Smith and Patti Smith Group drummer Jay Dee Daugherty and were guided by legendary Simon & Garfunkel producer Roy Halee. The only time any augmentation worked was on Speak, where the late-1980s synths actually complemented the writing. Otherwise, it's best to leave the trio to its own devices — guitars and voices — as Robert Fripp knew best, whether producing them utterly dryly in "audio verité" for The Roches or giving them reverberant warmth and depth for Keep On Doing. On Moonswept, thankfully, Lerman lets them play their guitars and pianos (and in the case of Terre, her Tibetan guitar and her ukulele, too) in the most natural of sonics. Garry Dial takes the keyboard on "Piggy Mask," and Lerman adds some miscellaneous touches, but otherwise it's all Maggie, Terre, and Suzzy in a thrilling throwback to their original organic sound.
And if a recent Long Island concert is any indication, the sisters are enjoying themselves and each other again. In the years before their hiatus, Roche concerts (like the era's Roche albums) were becoming samey and predictable. Here's hoping this new beginning will inspire them to dig deeper into their catalog. Honestly, they've asked "Mr. Sellack" for that job back enough times; give the man a rest! Instead, how about checking in again with "The Largest Elizabeth in the World"? More to choose from: "Runs in the Family," "My Sick Mind," "Losing True," "Everyone Is Good," "Feeling Is Mutual," the aforementioned "Nocturne." And how could we not want "Want Not Want Not"?
In the meantime, we could want nothing more than Moonswept. "We don't give out our ages," the Roches sang in 1979, but Maggie & Terre & Suzzy are now almost 56, 54, and 51. And even though the shit did hit the fan in New York City, they once again sound like those little kids — pretty and high and entirely alive.
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