Meg Baird - Dear Companion

Behold Dear Companion, in which Meg Baird – lead vocalist of Espers – abandon's all the elements that make her regular band so interesting, and instead settles on trotting out a tedious mostly-covers record that plays up to every folk cliché in the book. Accompanied only by some very workmanlike acoustic guitar playing, Baird flits – or rather slopes, for each song seems to drag on far too long – between traditional arrangements; badly conceived original compositions about melancholy maidens; and insipid covers which, in their absurd earnestness, will test all but the most stolid folkie's gag reflex. Riverhouse in Tinicum is the embarrassing nadir – the final proof of Baird's style-over substance posturing that will have Nick Drake turning in his grave. At the risk of sounding prescriptive, making records like this, in this day and age, is frankly ridiculous. This album is backwards-thinking, unimaginative and very, very dull. [Lucy Faringold]