Review Summary: As non-intrusive as love can get.
In her interviews--I doubt you'll find more that three or four 'round the internets--she seems like a rather jovial and outgoing Texas girl. Artistically, she proves to be an introvert with a habit of using a lot of head voice; sometimes she exercises an almost nasal tone. But so does the likes of Joanna Newsom, who seems to be making a good living out of that, and to whom Jess is being compared by some. The thing is that this Miss is less 'away with the fairies' and less nebulous when it comes to her overall performance, and she doesn't use harps & glockenspiels. And although she's sensible enough to clarify something along the lines of "...it's an honour ofc, but I honestly don't get the Karen Dalton analogies," admitting her Conor Oberst influences instead, I'll clarify that she won't be making any money anytime soon.
Jess Williamson strikes me as the kind of entertainer who's probably used to soft claps or even just a rattle of the tail when the last notes of her songs fade away; her music captures the mood emitting from an arid scenery, save for the occasional armadillo or desert fauna, and will not fit the big stage or the big applause. Instrumentally, she employs a sparse arrange of slow-tempo or no-tempo-at-all guitars, running through reverb-laden amps; it's for the most part a timid accompaniment, streaming through wishing-well acoustics. It could be that she considers travelling light a better suit for her vocals, or it could be that she doesn't have the know-how to go for more perplexed designs. Either way, I'd say that she could have gone for even less: even the mild, as-subtle-as-something-striking-can-get percussion does her wrong at times.
The best offerings are "The Snake Song" and the closer, "Devil's Girl", which are stripped down to the core, and in which she sounds as comfortable and natural and safe as it'll ever get. So, depending on mood, I might almost feel glad that this one never sought tutoring beyond her high school choir; and, again depending on mood, I might be glad to get my hands on that bastard who hurt her. He could be the one on the cover all right; it's just that a benevolent-looking girl took his head off. Did I mention she's into photography?
