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- <text id=93TT0117>
- <title>
- Oct. 25, 1993: Reviews:Music
- </title>
- <history>
- TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1993
- Oct. 25, 1993 All The Rage:Angry Young Rockers
- </history>
- <article>
- <source>Time Magazine</source>
- <hdr>
- REVIEWS, Page 81
- Cinema
- The Boho Dance
- </hdr>
- <body>
- <p>By GUY GARCIA
- </p>
- <list> PERFORMER: Rickie Lee Jones
- ALBUM: Traffic From Paradise
- LABEL: Geffen
- </list>
- <p> THE BOTTOM LINE: Back on personal turf, Jones captures fallen
- angels and broken hearts in strands of vivid poetry.
- </p>
- <p> Long before "cool" got hot and poetry became the latest MTV
- fad, Rickie Lee Jones was striking beatnik poses on album covers
- and writing jazzy rhymes about a hipster demimonde of oddballs,
- outcasts and free spirits. On albums like Pirates (1981) and
- Flying Cowboys (1989), Jones' street-wise sensibility was balanced
- and embellished by her increasingly sophisticated flair for
- elaborate instrumental settings. Then, two years ago, she switched
- gears and released Pop Pop, a glossy collection of covers and
- old standards that showed a heartfelt respect for tradition
- but lacked the offbeat charm of her own material.
- </p>
- <p> On Traffic from Paradise, Jones gets personal again, delivering
- a set of original songs that evoke a familiar gallery of saintly
- sinners and handsome devils. Low-key and instrumentally sparse,
- the album has a hushed sound that highlights Jones' elastic
- vocals and free-wheeling lyrics, which never flinch from unpleasant
- truths.
- </p>
- <p> The meditative tone is set on Pink Flamingos, which describes
- the denizens of a bar in terms that suggest a watering hole
- in the African veldt. As guitar and piano skitter above a buttery
- bass line, Jones sings, "Look at them--poking like flightless
- birds/...the spirit cannot wait to fly like the pink flamingo."
- </p>
- <p> Wild animals, with their quality of being both savage and pure,
- are a recurring motif. On the run from predators imagined or
- real, Jones' protagonists seek refuge in solitude or sex. On
- Tigers, men are portrayed as unpredictable beasts that can never
- be entirely tamed--or trusted. "Playing with tigers," Jones
- sings over rumbling congas and drums, "Tracing the lamp with
- my toes/ Playing with tigers 'til I find out/ Where it goes."
- </p>
- <p> At once innocent and world-weary, Jones' voice drops to a husky
- whisper or drawls syllables to wring nuance from every note.
- Painful memories appear without warning. On A Stranger's Car,
- Jones promises a young runaway that "There is no one here to
- beat out your brains/ There's no one here who'll make you cry."
- </p>
- <p> Ultimately, though, human anguish gives way to understanding
- and compassion, and the demons that haunt Traffic from Paradise
- are banished by the angels of redemption that hover overhead.
- On the standout cut, Beat Angels, Jones' voice shines like a
- beacon over roiling seas as she asks, "Don't you wonder where
- one goes wrong?/ Is it somewhere in a foreign rain.../ A man
- don't know what he's got in his veins/ 'Til beat angels come
- and take him away." Lifted by the unfettered emotion of such
- moments, this moody album spreads its wings and soars.
- </p>
-
- </body>
- </article>
- </text>
-