Scout Niblett's debut album, Sweet Heart Fever, gives the distinct impression that this singer-songwriter is older than her years but much younger than her sound (imagine PJ Harvey with the weight of history--not just of womanhood--on her small shoulders). Niblett's throaty voice is the main instrument in these songs, which describe identities real and imagined, love as an exorcism, and growing up in terms that fashion her as a Lolita figure to Harvey's painted-lady persona. The songs' spare arrangements, usually consisting of Niblett slowly plucking her guitar while Kristian Goddard counts along on the snare, create a backdrop that evokes Niblett's blues and folk precursors, while her sultry, warbling vocals recall those of Swedish singers Stina Nordenstam and Lisa Ekdahl. While stripped-down orchestration sounds like a recipe for coffee-shop-style background music, Niblett's aesthetic leans toward the creepy in such a way that her music becomes hard to ignore. This doesn't necessarily make it easy to embrace, but it will help you through the few songs it takes to recognize and appreciate Scout Niblett's eye for the perverse and her exceptional skill in creating a soundtrack to the uncanny moments in life. --Sarah A. Sternau
Scout Niblett
Sweet Heart Fever
[Secretly Canadian; 2001]
Rating: 7.3
It's hard to believe that Emma Louise Niblett, otherwise known as Scout, is from Nottingham, England. There's not a trace of British accent anywhere on her debut album, Sweet Heart Fever. I have a suspicion that she's the reincarnation of a Louisiana bayou blues songstress, reborn to tell her tales of love and desire. There's more than a hint of southern American twang in each of these fourteen songs, and her guitar seems as apt at spinning yarns as jangling out these folky tunes.
On first listen, Niblett may seem overly precocious. "So Much Love to Do" bounces along merrily on the upstroke of her guitar. "It's comin' after me, 'cause I'm comin' after you," she sings, drawing out the notes in a cutesy crescendo. But then she places a nice, ominous pause between "there's so much love" and "to do," which she sings falteringly. This hint of hesitance carries on through most of her work. "Miss My Lion" begins with an intense Zeppelin-esque riff, then breaks down into subtle strumming. Her plaintive cry contrasts well with the whimsical lyrics: "When we get home, it'll be like a party/ See how we move, sunlit and playful." Then the song shifts to aggressive pickwork again and her voice loses all restraint: "When you drive, there's no fooling me/ Those roads invited me."
Niblett's voice can pierce the high register almost painfully, but more often, she remains somewhere between girlish warble and sultry waver. The production work is immediate, bringing the sounds of her guitar to the forefront, and yet, her songs retain a certain mystique. She's joined on some tracks by drummer Kristian Goddard. The lilting groove created by her chords and his bass drum on "The Dance of Sulphur" adds to the mystery in her lyrics: "I felt something guarding me, as I entered the country..."
You could call Niblett's lyricism "mysterious," but at times, she plain doesn't make sense. That song goes on to mention something about "falling over constantly," psychic moles (?!) and "where the wild things rest," as far as I can tell. Other lyrics confess that "Neptune's in transit" and "trampling action causes me upsets." Niblett's ability to transform her simple instrumental setup into a unique patchwork of emotion and imagery is impressive, but the resulting impressionist canvas might be annoying to some in its fussy level of self-concern. It's like the nervous manifestation of fever dreams on a long, hot summer night.
Still, Niblett hits home more often than not. On "Wet Road," there's no mistaking the shivering tension in her voice, barely containing some unnamable desire as she sings, "Wet road, paradise, wet roads today/ On the way to your house again." She goes on to chide like a young Bessie Smith: "Don't ya know just to play with what you're given?" And the straightforward Kinks-esque guitar and Appalachian drum stomp on "Big Bad Man" is great: "Big Bad Man, lives all alone in the blue hills/ Everyone seems so scared of you/ I'm gonna cook you some real food!"
I admit, I was put off at first by Niblett's raw voice-- I'm not much for folky singer-songwriters. But Niblett won me over with the last few songs, especially "Ground Breaking Service," in which the funereal subject matter is set off against a surreal series of notes, eerily just out of tune. The songwriting on these last few pieces matches the contrast between "sweet" and "fevered" suggested in the album title; my only suspicion is that Niblett is capable of greater work than this. So I'm curious to see if she'll continue to sketch like this on the sidelines, or if we can expect a fuller portrait from the artist in the future.
-Christopher Dare, December 14, 2001
Review by Ken Taylor
Similar to many of the artists in the Secretly Canadian stable, Scout Niblett also has an affinity for soft vocals, hard acoustic guitars, and tear-drenched lyrics that bubble over with emotion. Immediate references to Cat Power and PJ Harvey may be inevitable, but Scout (aka Emma Louise Niblett) definitely has a voice all her own. And it's easily distinguished for those who can tell Songs: Ohia's Jason Molina and Palace's Will Oldham apart, but for others there won't be as much discrepancy. Niblett's debut, Sweet Heart Fever, is filled with lush, melodic compositions of the minimal sort. Usually with just a guitar and angelic voice, Niblett tells serious tales with heartfelt songwriting, sounding uncannily American even though she's British. Her somewhat gothic sound is incredibly warm in tone yet touches a sense of longing and loneliness. Regardless, Niblett will warm your heart from the first couple of tracks in. Only occasionally is Kristian Goddard's drumming enlisted, and it sits comfortably in the second place, providing a light oomph to Niblett's swelling vocals. The songs are pensive and tuneful throughout, and only in one rare instance does she fall off the rails. This exception is the clumsy "Big Bad Man," even though it is the hardest of all the tracks -- as it sees Niblett getting up from behind her guitar and seemingly rocking out in a somewhat childish and goofy manner. Aside from that, the other 13 tracks are superlative. Sweet Heart Fever is a stunning debut.
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