These Open Roads

beth — Mon, 25 Apr 2011 03:49:38 +0000

When I received Haroula Rose’s album These Open Roads in the mail, I couldn’t help but judge it immediately based on the cover. It’s yellow with 70s fonts and on the back, you’ll see Rose dressed in a hippie-styled shirt, standing amongst a field of tall grass. My immediate assumption was a pretty girl who probably has a pretty voice and nothing beyond that. I had hoped to be wrong after listening to the album. Unfortunately, I was far from it.

These Open Roads, while a very conventional indie-folk album, isn’t without meaning. The album implies notions of self-identity, of finding oneself, and the emotional difficulties one faces when attempting to do so. I found this to be the case with songs such as “Brand New Start,” “New Year’s Day,” and “Love Will Follow.” Other songs like “Another Breakup Ballad” and “Lavender Brown” feature heartbreak and radiate feelings of isolation. Rose wrote all eleven songs in the album (the twelfth track is more of a soft ode without any lyrics) and based on the consistency of her lyrics, I’m guessing she put a lot of effort into inserting common themes throughout the record.

Rose’s songs have a delicate, personal feel to them and the instrumentals are soothing. But while listening to the album, I always felt there was something missing. Something extra that makes her album stand out—perhaps something more intimate or unique in the lyrics.

Rose, a Los Angeles-based singer/songwriter, certainly has a voice that fits in with the league of modern indie singers. Her voice is reminiscent of a softer, less mature version of KT Tunstall or Judy Collins. It’s a sweet voice that’s not hard on the ears, but it’s nothing that can set her apart from the crowd of other female folkies with guitars that we see singing in small cafes around the city.

Written by: Farhana Uddin, April 24th 2011

Last Night in Montreal

admin — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 23:34:00 +0000

By Emily St. John Mandel

Unbridled Books

Emily St. John Mandel’s premier novel, Last Night in Montreal, is a cocktail of neurotic travel, obsession, and misunderstandings. As a child, Lilia Albert’s father abducted her and crossed the Canadian-American border, taking her away from her mother and half-brother. Once in America, they never live in one city for too long for fear of being caught by the police. Most of Lilia’s childhood takes place in a series of road trips, aliases, and motel rooms. Years later, as a young adult and after being on the road for so long, Lila has no idea how to stay in one place. She lives a suitcase-life and constantly leaves cities, jobs, and lovers behind.

The novel, like memories, goes back and forth between the past and present; although Lilia is the center, we also learn how others have been affected by her life. Her mother appears on Canadian TV outlets, crying over her missing child. The PI on her case, who has little luck confronting his own domestic issues, becomes obsessed with her and loses touch with his own daughter. Her ex-boyfriend Eli doesn’t understand why she abandoned him and instead of sorting his own issues out, chases after her in Montreal. The characters in St. John Mandel’s book are people who don’t understand one another, but more importantly, they don’t understand themselves.

Last Night in Montreal isn’t the most remarkable piece of fiction, but it is still a very good, fast read. The writing is fluid, and the story kept my interest for long enough. With novels today having so many ridiculously melodramatic and hypocritical characters, it was refreshing to read about people that are normal yet dysfunctional, intelligent yet confused—in other words, they’re just like most of us out there.

Written by: Farhana Uddin, April 22nd 2009