A Review of Regina Spektor's Begin to Hope (Sire)

Regina Spektor-Begin To Hope (Sire)

Wow, a break-up album from a singer-songwriter. Haven’t seen that one before, right? Especially not from a girl who plays piano. Thing is, most breakup albums are sad or angry, while Begin To Hope is just that—hopeful. From the bouncy “Fidelity” all the way to the wistful “Summer In The City,” the despondency and anger one expects to dominate breakup albums is replaced by a sense of humor. I mean, who writes a slow song that says “Summer in the city means/cleavage, cleavage, cleavage?” Then there’s “On The Radio,” with its stories of driving a hearse through a crowd or a DJ falling asleep and letting “November Rain” play over on the air.

Throughout the record, the songs are well-written, if a little odd. There are hints of Tin Pan Alley, French torch ballads, and Motown, as well as Ryan Adams, Bjork, and the crazy guy who shouts to his invisible friend as you try to read on the El. Then there’s the vocal delivery; she’s singing in an honest and unfiltered fashion which might be too quirky for your average pop fan. Spektor was born in Russia and emigrated at a young age, and I would guess her “otherness” as she grew up, combined with her family’s probable accents led to her unique singing style, a style which enables her to rhyme “storm” and “bone” or grunt and shout during a crescendo-ing song which flows seamlessly from English to French to Russian (“Apres Moi”).

Regardless of any quirks, she still can do straightforward songs. “Samson” gets my vote for best track on the record. The chord changes, melody, and fragile vocal hit the listener exactly on target, especially amidst the uptempo numbers surrounding it. There is a bit of a dip in energy about halfway through the record, but on second and third listens, it occurred to me that those songs were the “merely good” among the “freakin’ great.”

This record kicks ass like the drunken, crazed stalker you used to date before she went into porn. And like...