Sometimes I think women sing only to me. A side effect of long term reviewing? Perhaps. Evidence of some deeper psychosis? Probably. The point is that I got a warm feeling, even a sense of understanding, from Signe Tollefsen's self-titled debut album.
So, as you might have judged by now, this album is something of a collection of confessional songs. Nothing particularly unusual in that, of course, but what strikes me most is the subtlety that Ms Tollefsen brings to the party. There's no self pity, no angst, no need to justify herself. Instead there is the very human, almost matter of fact approach that you'd expect of old timers like Carole King or Carly Simon. Of course, she's not from sunny California so things are a little greyer with the "folk noir" description used in the press release seeming very appropriate.
The simple directness and conventionality of songs like "Jeff" appeals and Americana influences can be felt in "Up To No Good" in which human frailties have rarely been so beautifully expressed. The icing on the cake however is Ms Tollefsen's voice. She seems never to be really trying but everything she does just fits perfectly into the arrangements.
The first time I heard this album it just drifted by me but something drew me back to it. Listening to it again (and again) it became clear to me what had drawn me back. Something rare these days in a songwriter - compassion and forgiveness for the flaws of others.