Unlike Joan Wasser's first two efforts as Police Woman, The Deep Field doesn't feature any CD-sticker-worthy cameos from folks like Rufus Wainwright or Antony Hegarty. That's not to disparage her current collection of collaborators, which includes former Shudder to Think guitarist Nathan Larson and troubador Joseph Arthur, as well as producer Bryce Goggin, the go-to guy for most of Matador Records' mid-90s output. You still get the sense she's trying to make the type of mature and sophisticated pop music that can stand comfortably with these and other like-minded contemporaries. Unfortunately, while she aims for such critically acclaimed heights, her shots often land in a middle-of-the-road, adult-contemporary wasteland.
On a purely musical level, The Deep Field handles its business in a professional manner. The songs can settle into a uninspired groovy shuffle at times, "The Magic" being the key offender. And there are elements that tend to over-announce their presence at the cost of drowning out everything else-- usually it's the faux-funky organ, but the background singers making like human didgeridoos on "Human Condition" deserve a special mention. Still, it's hard to fully disregard a songwriter who can conjure up the haunting Talk Talk-like ambiance of "Flash", or gracefully send off "The Action Man" on a bed of strings, woodwinds, and percussion. It's when Wasser puts her voice front and center that The Deep Field collapses in on itself.
Wasser trades in all sorts of vagaries and generalizations, taking an entire track to convey an idea that could be succinctly expressed in a single verse. If Wasser were a stronger vocalist, she might be able to get by with this sort of shoddy writing; put these songs in Adele's golden throat, and they'd probably be chart-toppers. Wasser's voice is a decidely more subtle instrument. It has character, but its wispy, semi-sultry charm isn't robust enough to sell an outright dog like "Chemmie", a shameless slow jam that requires the bombastic pipes of Larson's former bandmate, Craig Wedren, to make it even remotely palatable. It's sadly appropriate that this misfire of a song-- about a couple with undeniable chemistry-- epitomizes an album that comes off as hopelessly inert.
