Arrica Rose & The … ‘s
Let Alone Sea
It’s the middle of summer as I write this, and Arrica Rose seems the perfect backdrop to the sweaty, sultry nights and parking lot heat of summer days. Her dreamy vocals float effortlessly through mysterious pop melodies, she sings of love and loss and enchantment while a melodic backdrop recalls Hawaiian guitars and country love songs released on K-TEL’s late night music collection. “If the world won’t bend to your will, baby, I will…” drips with honeyed sweat and somehow, even though I’ve never met her, I believe her. By the next track she’s lost that love and wandered into a dive bar near Barstow where the old Dylan songs aren’t doing much to cheer her up. Under all this estrogen and lavender water, soft guitars obediently accompany as the drum kit commiserates. A violin floats overhead like a ceiling fan with one bent blade, and I’m nearly as sad as she is. Pulling herself up, “Summers Gonna Burn Me” takes us down to the muted trumpet and wailing saxophones of New Orleans, then a Beatles-like piano intro opens “Riverbed.” It’s all I can do to not weep; this singer-songwriter has actually pulled at my hardened arteries and made me feel, just feel — and that’s enough.