Album Review from PhilMusic.com
March 30, 2007Colorful, poised and dazzlingly theatrical – Skarlet’s debut solo record, The Powder Room Stories mints into strong Montmarte cabaret-biographical sketches, a courtesan diva’s tale of desperate love, and lustily musical interpretations either Broadway guru Baz Luhrman or jazz saxophonist Charlie Parker wouldn’t mind listening to shortly and have a cup of tea. Whether it’s the silken vocal flexes that borders from strong, powerful and mesmerizing or the distinguished diva presence, Skarlet’s voice is the defiant element that makes The Powder Room Stories simply a clear-cut Broadway jazz opera donned in spunky rock chic.
A cross between Sarah Vaughan and Nina Simone, Skarlet’s vocal style has precise sense of rhythm and has a chameleon-coat towards slow and fast tempos, scat singing, standard ballads and falsettos. In “Birdy bop” she hops, leaps and frantically plays on random notes and improvised syllables like cold ice melting on suave, summer heat; while on “Anguish,” the gentle cover of “One way ticket to the blues,” and the dreamy temperament of “Stay with me,” Skarlet sings like Billie Holiday in 30’s nightclub suit gracefully weeping soul, black n’ white drama and romantic sincerity.
She absolutely knows how to tone down, embellish or establish vocal theatrics within certain limits that doesn’t overlap the genius of the horn and rhythm section, and yet it sounded as if her vocal presence is the heart and soul of the entire song. Thus, Skarlet proves that she is more than just an overnight fixation, but an epitome of real class and feminine power.
In The Powder Room Stories, Skarlet is also at her best subdued to swingy jazz anthems and bouncy numbers particularly the opener track “Skarlet,” a name with spangled equivalent to Broadway chanteuses Satine and Roxie. The title track flirts over blaring trumpets and sax, lively and piercing drums and subtle piano with Skarlet’s voice just as plain and acrobatic on conviction. The fact that she has mastered unlikely similar terrain with her ska endeavors Put3ska and Brownbeat All Stars makes it easy for Skarlet to tap vocally on the upbeat, the danceable and the melodically vigorous.
Fashionably controlled and flexed, Skarlet’s vocal designs are also worth mentioning in the swingy yet steadily soulful tracks like the Edgar Avenir arranged “The Way that you do” and the sheer “Joy,” which she lets loose and strangely avoids the signatured meticulous crooning. The result — a sizzling vivid, completely honest performance that showcases her chops for topform versatility.
The only tagalog track on the album, “Babae ka” pimps on latin tropicalia rhythms, gentle samba beats, stripped down guitars and subtle orchestral arrangement that elegantly rolls like a ball of yarn. It’s one of the fine moments of the album, not because of its marginal beauty and unsophisticated appeal but for the reason that its sincerely written and interpreted in the course of a dignified woman aiming for equality and change. Skarlet’s raw but carefree emotion also stirs to the song’s conviction; her treatment goes beyond just the powerful showcase, but real deal sincerity of what it is to be society’s dictate of a woman – often delineated, oppressed and subjected as sex objects.
Even on the last track, “Words behind the tears” unarguably in her most depressing tone, Skarlet achingly ponders as if she rolls cocaine and intensely yet clearly sings out of a realization of her desperate love. It’s deeply affecting how Skarlet interpret the closing track with such evident pain that you are left wondering why her final narrative in The Powder Room Stories has to be miserable and depressing. Maybe, just maybe – hurt is the price for love. And it defines The Powder Room Stories, as a tragic opera of big band sounds and Skarlet’s search for her fictional portrait as a woman in love.
by Ian Emmanuel C. Urrutia (March 1, 2007)
All comments are moderated. Your comments will not appear here unless approved by the blog owner. Thank you.
