Kara-Lis Coverdale

The musical landscape of Kara-Lis Coverdale treads into the biomechanical. It has a feeling about it that's organic, lush and green but still somehow also a touch antiseptic; the hedges are too perfect to not be milled by machine, if you get my drift. In this respect it becomes a well-suited soundtrack for an air-conditioned future. Her take on classical motif winds through eddies of sorrow and hope then feeds them through analysis and digital tweaking to produces the crispest version of each emotion. Synthesized instruments are heightened like food additives and the superimposed image of the orchestra becomes more real than the players ever were. No watermelon ever tasted as intense as a Jolly Rancher. No oboe ever lamented as deeply as Coverdale allows it to. But despite these trappings of manufactured environment, the record is affecting and personal in a way that prods at the heart and tugs at the memory. In her small, mostly cassette output she's hit on a potent brew of symphonic style.

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