Sixpence None the Richer 
Artist: Sixpence None the Richer 
Label: Squint Entertainment 

The new Sixpence release sounds nothing like the last one. 

Why does it seem like we've heard that before? 

Just as the jangly modern rock of 1995's This Beautiful Mess marked a departure from the alternafolk of the band's debut The Fatherless and the Widow, so the much-anticipated Sixpence None the Richer is a step in yet another direction. Once again, the band has managed to transform its sound into something that is unquestionably different from anything they've done before, and yet unmistakably Sixpence. 

Musically, the entire album is quite complex. From the warbling synthesizers in the background of the album's opening track, "We Have Forgotten," to the pizzicato strings on the melancholy "Anything" to the use of the hurdy gurdy (courtesy of John Mark Painter) on several other tracks, this album is marked by rich orchestrations which layer texture upon texture to build a solid groove.  

While there are few songs beyond the first single "Love" which seem 
well-suited to radio airplay--the melancholy feel of the music doesn't fit with the standard CCM format, and the tunes might be too mellow for 
Christian Rock Radio--the complexity of the music and lyrics will keep listeners coming back for more. More than most releases, this album's 
appeal grows over time as its beauty becomes increasingly apparent. 

This is mood music, and lead singer Leigh Nash's plaintive soprano is put to superb use. Nash is no Fleming McWilliams (who is?), but her vocals are the perfect match to Matt Slocum's music and Steve Taylor's production. She ranges from angst-ridden desperation to ethereal little-girl-wispiness to an outright wail. What's impressive is her ability to use such desperate styles to effectively convey the mood of the songs. 

The lyrics on Sixpence None the Richer contribute to the mood as well, 
serving as a documentary of the band's break from R.E.X. Records and the legal and artistic limbo which accompanied it. The CD represents a journey for the band, and they invite the listener to come along. They just don't promise that the trip will be a pretty one.  

The listener is baptized into the theme of the album early on via the first three songs, which blend together into one connected piece. The trilogy 
opens with the lyricist worried that he has grown too comfortable with his state, worrying that "We have forgotten... how it used to be" and wondering "am I in love with this... My constant broken ship?" He faces the sobering loss of youthful innocence, wistfully recalling past ideals which are being shed from his life like childhood toys: 

       Dreams, inconsistent angel things, 
       horses bred with star-laced wings, 
       but it's so hard to make them fly, fly, fly 

The second song continues this exploration with a bitter depiction of the band's situation during the later years of the R.E.X. Records contract: 

        This is my forty-fifth depressing tune. 
        They're looking for money as they clean my artistic womb. 
 

Throughout the lyric, the band wonders "if we should pack our tents, shut down the show" and hopes for "a burning bush-type sign." But the final song in the trilogy has the band "in the waiting room of the world" and resolved that "we will wait until you call our name out loud." 

It is this pattern of depression mixed with hope which typifies the lyrics on Sixpence None the Richer. Many of the songs are focused around desperation and dryness; a couple make the listener wonder how close the band was to throwing in the towel altogether. They reflect frustration and a sense that Sixpence's artistic efforts were being prostituted. Nowhere is this theme better expressed than the Pablo Neruda-penned "Puedo Escribir."  

The exiled poet's theme--the fear of becoming a show pony for sadness and depression at the expense of real artistic freedom--rings particularly true for Sixpence. Similarly the band's time in limbo with their record label mirrors Neruda's experience as an exile. 

To label the lyrics as simply angst-filled or bitter, however, would be to 
miss out on the real quality of the work Matt and company have accomplished. They are unwilling to simply capitulate to the formulaic angst which is so common on alternative radio stations. They refuse to abandon hope or paint themselves as "that band that writes sad songs all the time." 

As the album progresses, this hope becomes more apparent. By the end, the listener finds the band, if not exactly happy, then at least resolved: 

         I'm moving on...   
         I can sing about the night...  
         I will not let them ruin me again  

They haven't yet reached the end of their travails, but they have faced the worst the storm can throw at them and find themselves still standing.  Refreshingly, Sixpence refuses to write "I had trouble but Jesus made it all better and I'm happy now" lyrics, avoiding that standard Christian pop radio pitfall. 

All in all, Sixpence None the Richer is an album the band members can be proud of and which discerning listeners can appreciate. It is easily one of the strongest Christian releases in 1997, but be warned--anyone who buys it expecting to hear the up-tempo distortion of "Love, Salvation and the Fear of Death" or the innocent romance of "Field of Flowers" will be disappointed. Those who come with open minds will be treated to a rewarding musical and spiritual journey unique to the Christian marketplace.  

You see, the new Sixpence release sounds nothing like the last one. And that's not a bad thing. 

By Lisa Reid and Matt Laswell 

When I heard that Steve Taylor was starting a record label, I was excited.  I expected great things. Then when I heard the first band to release an album on said label would be Sixpence None the Richer, I could hardly wait for November to come. Well, it's come and I've heard the album.  Sixpence's sound has changed quite a bit.  After the wonderful rock album that was This Beautiful Mess, many people were expecting more of the same; however, the band has chosen to go a bit mellower here, possibly due to the change in personnel since This Beautiful Mess was released (background vocalist Tess Wiley leaving for Phantasmic and bassist J.J. for Plumb). I was also interested to note that Matt Slocum's section of the 'thanks' column (in the liner notes) mentions Linford and Karen Detweiler of Over the Rhine.  Steve Taylor produced here, but this album sounds closer to Over the Rhine than previous Sixpence works, so I wonder how much influence they had. With Steve as producer, though, this still retains more of a pop sensibility than any of that band's albums.  Matt's string arrangements suit the guitar-driven music brilliantly, and Leigh's vocals are as wonderful as ever. Lyrically, the album mixes in love songs with explorations of spiritual troubles and confusion. We are treated here to the only song on the album from the pen of Leigh Nash, which fits in well amongst the more predominant lyrics of Matt Slocum:    

You and the moon are a beautiful sight to me. 
The stars in your eyes make it really hard to see you. 
A night in the sun is all I really want. 
You and me with the best of both for once. 
Night breaks. 
My heart could not ache anymore. 
Am I that easy to ignore? 
         (from "Easy To Ignore" by Leigh) 

By James Stewart   
  
 

Ah, money & stability. What a difference the basics make, and money & stability are right up there on the list with food, shelter & clothing in order for a musician to be productive, creative, and heard by an audience. Steve Taylor's rescue of Sixpence None the Richer for his new label has provided these important elements which they take full advantage of on this, their third release. The pain and uncertainty of the band's struggles to free itself from its previous record label left deep psychic wounds to explore, but I prefer the project when it moves on to more entertaining subjects:  a kiss, a dance, the moon, love. Leigh Nash could sing the telephone book, if Matt Slocum arranged it, and the results would be art. Make a pot of tea, burn a candle, keep a sketch pad handy, and sit back to enjoy the mood of Sixpence in their land of plenty. 

By Linda Stonehocker 
 

I've owned all of Sixpence None The Richer's albums for a while now, but I've never really been one to rave about their brilliance as so many fans do. Sure, they make some very well-crafted music, and Leigh's got a really beautiful voice, but for some reason I rarely reach for their albums. Ever since I got this newest one, though, I've wanted to play it every time I see it.  Strange.  I suspect it has something to do with the more stripped-down music (more acoustic tracks) or with new producer Steve Taylor's tricks.  I could listen to Leigh sing "This is my forty-fifth depressing tune" (from 'Anything') forever I think; that track is addictive for some reason.  Hmm...the phrase "for some reason" keeps popping up as I try to review this album; I guess you could say Sixpence is beyond words(!).  I think I'm hooked this time.

By Josh Spencer 
 
 

Sixpence None the Richer has conceived a self-titled album as lush and beautiful as you can make without sacrificing the requisite modern rock energy.  The songs are dramatic, conjuring comparisons to a more aggressive Innocence Mission in tone and inspiration as well as a stirring rock opera in realization.  Leigh's wispy voice, Dale's deft drumming, (mostly) J.J.'s melodic bass, and Matt's ample jangling, guitar-slinging, chilling cello playing, and careful song-crafting all combine here with powerful affectation. They've masterfully captured the visceral tension of angst and grace here on an album which is their best to date.  Steve Taylor (one of the few relevant Christian songwriters of the Eighties) as the producer is not nearly so ubiquitous here as on the Hokus Pick and Guardian albums he has produced and for which he has contributed lavish lyrical bits.  This suggests his confidence in Sixpence's creative merits and intrinsic ability.  In a sense, he got out of their way and let them do what they do best by helping them to realize their own abilities.  This is a collaboration that makes sense; it worked.   The result is a wondrous work of art from Squinterland.  Keep 'em coming. 

By Steven Stuart Baldwin