Ida, aka Daniel Littleton and Elizabeth Mitchell, have been playing together for about fifteen years and have been married for nearly ten. Though they've played in other bands, as Ida they've released several records, in a typical roller coaster from indie label, to major label, and back to indie label (the latest is Polyvinyl, on which they released 2005's Heart Like a River and this album.) The couple has been accompanied by drums and bass in the past, but on this release, they are mostly independent and acoustic, bending more in the direction of soft, folk-tinged pop-- mostly string-and-voice with some crucial piano additions-- and oozing the reflection that comes from living "in the woods," as Mitchell described it at a recent New York show.
While the title track is the most notable, a focal point with percussive oomph, there are a lot of others that are quietly impressive, percussion-free, and piano driven, like "Surely Gone". It hearkens back to the most touching songs of a contemporary like Liz Phair, though there is just as much flavor as a simple Beatles or Van Morrison ballad, and the easy but memorable tune from the piano saves the sweetness from getting cloying or the structure too clunky. In fact, the piano is really the star of the show here, as "Lovers Prayers" is well punctuated by the thick bass notes of the keys. Like many of their melodies, this one is wandering yet repetitive; a syncopated rhythm and peddling keys saves the whole thing from floating away. On "Weight of the Straw", the fluttering brush of the drums and voice take us to a Bacharach-like world of delicate strings and sunny vocals. Yet Mitchell and Littleton, often in duet, sound no more powerful than Low, who croon from deep inside a thicket of noisy and lush instruments. Here, Ida's instruments are just a legato backup, an airbrush of atmosphere, and it works to their advantage, even if the voices occasionally sound like mere powder puffs of color themselves.
Ida have no concern whatsoever for what's cool, but they seem to instinctively know that an old traditional of string-and-piano aperitifs, which take several listens to know intimately, are enjoyable to a broad and patient selection of music lovers. Like Nina Nastasia's collaboration with Jim White, this album has just the right balance of popular ideas and remote ones; all are familiar, but those languorous tempos and scintillating guitars, as on "First Light", are wise and grown-up, not trite or somnolent. And knowing the relationship between the two performers certainly gussies up our reading of the songs; their partnership is strong and secret, yet it's being narrated rather openly to us: Here's how we jointly see things. There are a few songs on this release that mumble and pluck incoherently, though still prettily. And to be honest, the harmonies between the two are more impressive live, where an assortment of covers and older work peppers this mix. But the verdant, peaceful atmospheres of songs like "Kora" can thankfully be taken anywhere, and communicate a warmth and privacy that a stage just can't replicate.
