Jane Weaver - Seven Day Smile
[Bird]

It seems a little strange to be writing a review of an album which, technically, has existed at least since 1999. But if Peter Gabriel can put out tracks a decade old and more and call it new material, why the hell can't anyone else?

Seven Day Smile is Jane Weaver's “lost” debut album, and contains the singles we remember from the first time – Starglow, Seven Day Smile, and Gutter Girl. Recorded when Doves were still jobbing in the background of Badly Drawn Boy releases, and plotting world domination of their own, this is an album of tunes both of their time and completely timeless.

It's good to have her back, even though we've already had Like An Aspen Leaf and the Misty Dixon classic Iced To Mode. This is meatier stuff than both those albums, backed as she is by Doves. There are moments of eerie tranquillity that are like echoes across a room haunted by childhood and ice cream vans.

Title track Seven Day Smile could well remain Ms Weaver's finest moment to date, with the way it shivers and moves, caressing your ears and your mind. The Bacharachian strings towards the end threaten to sweep you off your feet, and then they're gone.

There's John Cale inflected heroin chic on Weathered, that trips and drips and pulls you down on a trip to the delta South. Pale skinny girls with their eyes ringed with kohl are sucking their cheeks in and pouting as we speak.

Starglow's bossanova beat and whispered vocal conjures up images of a deserted northern ballroom, the ghosts of women with bouffants tea-dancing their way across the floor.

She appears so sweet and lovely, this woman, but there's a dark, dark streak at her centre, and it's quite delicious. If you're looking for music that twists away from bubblegum and becomes the antithesis of pop, with lyrics that will mess with your head, then look no further. “There's no use in crying, you're one of us..” or in other words, resistance is futile, so why fight it. She's up there with the best and it's about time people recognised it.

So effortless it seems lazy, this album is a gem of lush melodies, gorgeous harmonies, and understated production. Closing track Gutter Girl features Mr Weaver, the monkey man genius that is Andy Votel. Burps, trickles and bleeps populate this track, which is an aching declaration of love and unrequited passion.

“It feels that you will never leave me now” goes the chorus on In Summer, and once you hear it, the same is true of the haunting beauty of this album. Good that it's been released at last. Better when it's followed by an album of new stuff. No pressure, Jane.