Review Summary: A journey through the less told side of pop culture, the dorky side.
Megan Washington, usually referred to somewhat stylishly by last name, is an Australian solo artist who rose from obscurity a few years ago due to her infectious personality and original melodies. Her debut album, I Believe You Liar (designed to be an 'ouroboros' like phrase) is an insightful journey through modern Australian culture, as well as being sufficiently fun and animated to sustain even the most fleeting of attention spans. Rooted strongly in a career of Jazz music, Washington draws on her knowledge of the genre to create punchy pop songs as well as restrained and lyrically adept indie ballads.
Opening solidly through '1997', the album glides through ups and downs both in tempo and sentiment, exploring the social experiences of the standard teen to twenty-something while still somehow managing to still be interesting. By focusing on the more involving matters involved in the plight of the adolescent, rather than the standard 'love', 'alienation', 'depression', that we've all heard so many times before, Washington creates a sort of niche for herself that she can fill with her minimalsitic stylings and abstract imagery.
The instrumentation present on 'I Believe You Liar' is primarily a vessel for Megan's voice, which easily raises the standard of each song, yet can also soar to intriguing heights and surpass the vocals which dominate most of the album, as is the case in the flamenco-ish 'Spanish Temper'. Simple beats are scattered throughout, from the up-tempo 'Sunday Best', to the reserved and obscure ballad 'Clementine', which are cleverly crafted upon to form layered and diverse tracks which also feel flowingly cohesive in the scheme of the album.
Supporting the lyrical content, the musicship shines, creating effortlessly clear imagery to go along with the theme, such as found in the dorky '80's' beats of 'Navy Blues' which seamlessly brings the listener along on a viewing of the standard (and unabashedly awkward) middle school dance. Another shining example of this ability is present on the downbeat examination of death in a family 'Underground', which cleverly characterizes quirky personalities effected by a tragedy. Through earnest representational lyrics, such as:
"When I'm gone don't weep and moan
Where I'm going is a pleasant stay
I'll visit my grandfather's home
Drink gin with Billie Holiday"
The artist conjures up colourful and relatable experiences to enrich the song. Infectious emotion abounds on the album, creating a platform for the listener to engage with and enhance the tracks. Even while discussing the impossible and fictitious, Washington grounds her music in sensation and warmth.
Though lyrically simple, I Believe You Liar employs the aforementioned sentimentality in grabbing the listener and drawing from memory and past cognizance. In 'Rich Kids', Washington humbly reminisces:
"I met you under neon
All of the lights were flickering off and on
Everybody's coming down or throwing up
Or sleeping around
I remember why I left this town"
Continuing on from the excitable and faced paced tracks, the methodical 'Clemintine' takes its place. Plodding along the abstractified love story which it holds proudly as a narrative, the song explores the subjects of devotion and infatuation through dense metaphors and surreal imagery. Accompanied by a fantastic music video (strongly recommended to be viewed, now), Megan's voice beckons the listener into a soothing world of obscurities and fiction.
The downfall in Washington's debut effort lies in the somewhat self assured efforts of some tracks, such as the morose album closer and title track 'I Believe You Liar', as well as the unprogressive 'Lover/Soldier'. These tracks, which rely to heavily on lyrical content, fail to fully contain the excitement of the album, and also lack the musical diversity and unabashed energy present on there rest of the album. When finishing the album, a more satisfying conclusion could easily have been found in the brilliant 'How To Tame Lions', yet instead the title track helps the album to end more with a whimper than a bang, which would have ultimately been more fitting.
Overall, Washington's debut album 'I Believe You Liar' works both as an intriguing study into the Australian culture, and as a fun collections of infectious indie pop songs. Through the use of minmalistic yet intelligent instrumentation and relatable, diverse lyrics, Washington fully brings to the fore her iconography in the modern Australian music scene. Well worth a listen.
