Suzanne McNeil’s last CD Willow is a testament to the singer’s special vocal abilities and her songwriting gift for creating gritty realism in her music. The contrast between her silky smooth voice and the gritty music underneath highlights the talent of both singer and backing musicians. McNeil also has plenty of intelligent things to say, especially about relationships. McNeil, as you might know by now, has recently undergone successful surgery to repair her vocal chords, a feat of modern medicine that kept alive a dream instead of allowing it fall by the wayside. Listeners would have missed a lot of good songs that will now continue to spring from this artist.
Opening song “Spring Has Come” gets its strength from McNeil’s persistent silkiness. She finesses every word with a voice that is at once smooth, sweet, and rangy. It certainly doesn’t hurt that McNeil has keyboardist Keith Reid applying his earthy organ chords below her graceful vocal line. The moments when voice and organ sustain are heavenly, a run of notes you wish would last even longer.
McNeil’s local hit single “Lost In Boston” is one everybody who lives outside of the Hub can relate to. It’s next to impossible to get anywhere in Boston without going down the wrong streets before finding the right one, and those wrong streets seem to go on for miles. Here, McNeil’s catchy, ethereal voice makes her chorus come alive. She puts her message across with such a gust of confidence and oomph that you cannot resist the temptation to sing along.
“Bend” features McNeil’s guitarist Tim Mahoney creating a chilling atmospheric backdrop with his drippy electric guitar picking. Over this sound McNeil projects her emotional and vocal ebullience. Her voice is fulsome and considerate, letting you see the wheels turning in her head as contemplates the philosophy that inspired this song. She’s less singer-songwriter than rock performer in her vocal build ups and sustains. She rocks this one with just a touch more of the fire she reveals in the first two tracks. And that is all she needs.
Back to the singer-songwriter contemplations on “People Are People,” McNeil unfolds her thoughts with a gentle, easeful pace and presentation that make you feel the upbeat vibe she was likely in when wrote these words. It’s a treat to hear her timbre express her emotional high during her sustains.
“Sacrifice” is another catchy McNeil tune that should be getting airplay on adult contemporary radio. Focused on all that her mother gave up for their family, McNeil brings it home with specific images of her mother’s hard work. The singer-songwriter makes clear that a mother weaves the fabric of her family’s life. The chorus here grows on you with each listen.
“There You Are” benefits from Matt Glover’s mandolin playing, his sweet snap of notes keeping this one grounded in folkie appeal. McNeil doesn’t change her approach or pitch on this one, yet she fits right in with slight old timey country feel. Bass player Dave Leitch and drummer Jason Nute are at their most palpable on the disc. They put a lot of deep notes and passion into their rhythm section backbone.
McNeil rocks it up pop star style on “Cut Em Loose,” a track that could probably make modern rock radio, based on her belty chorus and the assertive, persistent edge from her backing players. McNeil has true power and passion in her build up and in her belts on leading up to and during her chorus. There are genuine highs when she sustains on her way to chorus. It is also how she uses the rest between belt and chorus that has rock star written all over it.
McNeil reveals her inner goddess on “Aphrodite,” a pleasant contemplation of the sweet joys, power, and wonder of attraction. McNeil finesses this ode to one woman’s strength with lush sustains in her chorus and unaffected belts elsewhere. There’s in irresistible fulsomeness in her voice that jumps out at the listener, takes him by ear, and doesn’t let go.
McNeil turns into a wholesome country girl on “It’s All About You,” a two step shuffle with Steve Sadler’s mellow, honky tonk flights on pedal steel giving melodic edge and gritty peripheral. Mahoney’s electric guitar picking further flavors this one south of the Macon County line. McNeil instinctively knows when to inject her vocal lines with unadorned starts and stops. She begins and ends each verse without build up or affectation, making her song more steeped in the genre.
A catchy spiral interval of guitar notes brings on “Whisper,” a song about being stuck with a partner who gave plenty of warning signs. McNeil, after listing those signs, makes her way back to an embraceable chorus, one she glides through with her sweet soft timbre. Her sustains, again, carry a lot of musical weight, giving lift and momentum, making the listener feel that the song is going somewhere and that McNeil knows exactly where she wants to bring them.
McNeil closes out her disc with “Snow White,” another nugget of lush vocal sustains and whisper smooth crooning. McNeil does her vocal glides on her chorus with the same smooth delivery of the other songs. Yet, she’s carrying the heft of the song by using a thicker timbre. She also sings with harmony partner Scott Bowser, the song’s guitarist and melodic backbone. This final display of vocal technique allows McNeil to close out the album with a warm regard for her listeners. You feel like she’s giving you a polite goodbye while leaving the door open for future visits.
