Mazzy Star was always a form of Hope Sandoval fetishism for me. Hearing "Halah" for the first time as a teenager in 1990, I was immediately seduced by Sandoval's detached feminine voice and the ethereal psychedelic folk that shimmered underneath. She Hangs Brightly and that waifish chanteuse were a perfect counterpoint to the masculine posturing of grunge. I should also admit that I'd begun to grow tired of the formula before Mazzy Star dissolved. Now, with Sandoval going solo but failing to veer from her same old signature sound, she seems less attractive than narcissistic. Conceit usually seems to coincide with a lack of ideas, and when the wellspring of inspiration runs dry, there's only one thing to lapse into: self-parody.
Like all of Mazzy Star's releases, Bavarian Fruit Bread works well as a mood piece and makes good background music, but it doesn't reward close listening. Aside from a couple of tracks on the album, most of the songs here sound undeveloped and repetitive. Considering most of them only employ a sparse accompaniment without a proper rhythm section, it's odd that, after breaking with David Roback, Sandoval has matched herself with My Bloody Valentine drummer Colm O'Ciosig who has only been playing guitar for two years. This probably explains the simplicity of the arrangements.
One of the highlights of the album is "Suzanne," a pretty little ballad with tinkling glockenspiel accompaniment and some nice harmonica lines. Along with "Drop" and the half-realized "Butterfly Morning," the first three tracks are a promising start, but from there things start to unravel. With a catchy psychedelic soul vamp and a sultry vocal flowing like dripping honey, the fourth song, "On the Low," sounds like Booker T in space, or Dusty Springfield on acid-- it's seductive, but confused. For most of the track's duration, Sandoval seems tentative about where it all should lead, falling back on the rhythm section to carry things to completion. And most of Bavarian Fruit Bread is like this, the seeds of fine songs that frustratingly fail to completely deliver.
There are the two short keyboard pieces, "Baby Let Me" and "Bavarian Fruit Bread," that seem to make some kind of attempt at breaking new creative ground, but since they're little more than aimless noodling, they come off as extraneous interludes and add nothing to the course of the album. The same can be said of "Feeling the Gaze." The cello accompaniment is a gorgeous addition for a few notes, but no attempt is made to develop the basic six-and-five-note sequences that are strung together ad nauseam till you feel like busting the fucking thing against a wall.
But then comes another gorgeous success. "Charlotte" is another delicate ballad with Sandoval actually making an attempt at some form of emotional expression. For all of the beauty of Sandoval's voice, she makes little effort to deviate from her usual placid, monotone delivery. There are few peaks or valleys, just syllables that slur or fade away, particularly on the non-acoustic tracks when she sounds either bored or stoned. Sandoval's pouting on "Around My Smile" is laid on a little thick, and the slurred vocals make the already opaque lyrics even more so.
And when all is said and done, Bavarian Fruit Bread is just kind of boring. Sandoval doesn't add much to the Mazzy Star legacy she tries to perpetuate, and when she strays from that paradigm, she usually fails. The fetish is dead.
