Ramona Silver

Item: Ultrasound
Author: Steven S. Baldwin

Ultrasound

(1998)

Reviewed by Steven S. Baldwin

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Label FingerprintThe Phantom Tollbooth1998

indie pop pop rock power pop

Ramona Silver, the artist formerly known as Shari Russell, is somewhat of a staple on both the Boston radio scene and club circuit. You might even call her a local favorite. Her last album, You and Me and Hell, spent four weeks on WFNX's "Boston Rocks" Top Five, and was praised by everyone from the Boston Phoenix to Billboard and The Blue Man Group. This new album, Ultrasound, stands to surpass it in accolades galore. Despite all this, her fame is surprisingly local. Even given her appreciable talent, she remains Boston's best kept secret.

There are aspects of Silver's work to date that conjure up a host of alterna-chicks glutting the radio, but repeated listens garner more delightful differences than blase comparisons. If her more guitar-oriented debut album took more of its cues from Liz Phair, this new one draws closer to Suzanne Vega's recent work (like 99.9 F and Nine Objects of Desire) without repeating it. There are also elements of Sam Phillips, The Beach Boys, and even Janet Jackson's more creative moments, which contribute to an album that is pure pop with all the wonderfully eclectic edges intact. For example, "In Your Soul" sounds melodically like it was drawn from those old School House Rock cartoons on Saturday morning, which is appropriate given the colorful, almost cartoon-ish sound of the album. Appropriately, that song also offers lessons worth learning:

Giving's just a reaction to love
And sinning's just a reaction to all the things we dream of
Being's just a reaction to everything we can't control.
It's in your soul.

Not pure theology, perhaps, but worth pondering.

On Ultrasound, Silver pays tribute to a childhood of piano lessons with more organs and keyboards and less guitar. The sonic differences between albums only begin there. Her husband, Danny Horrid (of the band Hezze), plays the ukulele, cornet, trombone, tambourine, and even a glockenspiel. The musical results, as you might imagine, are uncommon yet always fresh and pleasantly accessible: literally the ultrasound the listener hopes for and the title promises. Actually, the album title is a play on words, since it also refers to Silver's studio-time experience while anxiously awaiting the birth of her baby, Hazel, whose ultrasound photo graces the space in the case underneath the CD. Her older daughter's lively art work adorns the album cover.

Silver's voice is not overly unique but always extremely enjoyable. She knows how to use it to its fullest effect. Her real gift is coupling her talented voice with memorable melodies and lushly layered harmonies. All those days singing in the choir for the Baptist church she attended as a youth were well spent.

The production value on the album is excellent. Although super-producer Mitchell Froom had nothing to do with this project, it sure sounds like he could have. The varied instrumentation, creative rhythms; crafty, well-executed song-writing; and the production crispness all contribute to an album that has more highlights than lesser moments. Among the brightest and best, "Had My Day," with its Sam Phillips-esque big happy hit sound, is probably the most affable both musically and lyrically:

Though we hardly felt the sun
And we hardly felt the rain
We knew that we could run
And hide from all the pain
Now standing here with you
Is the only way to deal
and I pray that when we're through
We may all be healed.

Although just about every song sounds like it would be right at home on the radio, it is the whole of these parts that is most impressive. The constant attention to sonic detail, the strength of the overall creation, and the inclusion of some very amusing bits make this album stand out well ahead of the pack. The album's most charming moment is "Star, Star," which was co-written with Silver's young daughter, Free. The track begins with Free playing and singing a song for her mom, and then Ramona's interpretation of it kicks in with a dizzy array of complementary instrumentation. Talent obviously runs in the family, and the result here is sheer fun. The instrumental track "All Skate" follows. Complete with a cheesy organ, it would sound so perfectly at home at your local roller-skating rink that you might easily find yourself reminiscing of those former, happy days spinning with your sweetie. After twelve tracks sharp with wit and style, the lush cover of Mark Heard's "Remarks to Mr. McLuhan" closing the album is just a perfect, added bonus. Dare I say it? It's more fun than the original.

Ultrasound gets its biggest A+ for creativity, and only one negligible demerit. Ramona Silver pulls a bit of a Sam Phillips here, by turning in a shorter than usual album. Ultrasound is definitely a case of more would've been better. Regardless, she is an artist more than deserving of mass exposure. The time is right and the secret is out.

4.5 tocks