Suzanne Vega

The Suzanne Vega that early fans fell in love with -- who melted hearts with the coffeehouse sing-speak of Rickie Lee Jones -- is nowhere better represented than on her self-titled debut. Her most moving work, the album is filled with heart-wrecking confessionals like "Straight Lines" and "Cracking." Once you get past the production -- which has bass slaps and synth patches that haven't dated too well -- it's a lovely performance, and tunes like "Neighborhood Girl" are great preludes to "Luka."

The current New York folk revival has a lot riding on this album – Suzanne Vega is the first
major-label release from the new crop of Greenwich Village troubadours. But Vega – a
young veteran of several Fast Folk songwriter anthology LPs – plays folk only in the largest
sense of the word. Her lyric tradition barely goes as far back as the early Joni Mitchell's
tangled romances and dreamy fantasias. In the opening song, "Cracking," she alt... More >

If I walked into a folk club and came upon this woman strumming her songs, I'd be impressed too--she picks her words with evident care and conversationalizes her chosen vocal tradition with evident savvy. But that's not good enough: great lyricists either dazzle you utterly or sneak the imagery on by, and no folk-based vocal tradition ought to require conversationalizing. Despite her considerable talent, Vega is self-consciously Artistic like so many folkies before her, which means that while a rock and roll production might power her over her affectations, more likely it just wouldn't mesh--the slightly prissy precision of these arrangements is precisely what the songs demand. As for that ersatz medieval ballad (which ain't bad, actually)--it's no anomaly. (Grade: B-)