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–––––[
T
h e
B i g
T a k e o v e r ]–––––
Issue 52
Some
records are meant to dream to. “Just Like
Breathing” is that record.
Filled
with lush and cinematic soundscapes, Roback, the
wife of the former Rain Parade bassist and Viva
Saturn leader Steven Roback (who also co-produced
and lent his considerable guitar skills), has
crafted a strong debut that fills the comfortable
space between the spare folkiness of Aimee Mann
and Hope Sandoval’s psychedelia. Over 11
songs, Roback’s lilting soprano provides
a soothing counterpoint to tidal washes of gentle
acoustic guitar and Steven Roback’s tasteful,
electric fretwork. High points here include the
stately “Lady Don,” (extra points
for mentioning Mark Bolan in the first line),
and the bittersweet travelogue “New Britain,”
which serves as a reminder that you can go home
again, but you’ll often rue what you find
there. — John Micek
–––––[
C
l i n k ]–––––
Missy
Roback leads off her debut album Just Like Breathing
with "Take It Back," a dire song about
a relationship on the edge. It's about asking
the demons to return to Pandora's Box after they've
been released.
Now
that the lie's uncovered
Can't we just take it back?
I didn't seek to love her
But I did give it back
Not even sure if I can say
If we will see another day
Maybe in time we'll find a way to keep it now
Maybe we'll find a way to let it be somehow
This snapshot of a relationship teetering on the
edge of dissolution is a recurring theme on Just
Like Breathing. Missy and her husband of ten years
Steve Roback combine the lyrics and her beautifully
serene voice (which recalls both Aimee Mann and
Hope Sandoval) with arrangements that together
create an atmosphere of the loneliness that overwhelms
in the final stage of a romantic connection.
Steve Roback, who is no stranger to these types
of arrangements, produced and played on the recording,
adding a lot of the laid back psychedelia that
he brought to the world in his former bands Viva
Saturn and The Rain Parade. Tim Mooney, formerly
of the American Music Club, engineered and mixed
the album. These bands were always good at creating
not only music but an atmosphere, and on Just
Like Breathing they accomplish the same task.
For this type of album, it is hard to imagine
a better team of artists that could be brought
together.
"I wrote everything on guitar, except for
the title track, on piano," explains Missy.
"And then we worked out the arrangements
as a 4-piece (sans drums -- we didn't work with
Tim until we went into the studio) and played
them live as they evolved. Steven is the master
arranger -- he really directed Leigh Gregory and
Grant Miller, the two guitar players, in terms
of their parts. I came up with a lot of the harmonies,
but Steven and I also collaborated on some in
the studio.
"A few songs were recorded pretty much as
I had imagined them, like "Take It Back"
and "Lady Don," but a couple songs really
evolved -- "Blue-Eyed Baby" started
out like a Ramones song, and "Mermaid"
was a rocker until Steven stripped it down to
its essence in the studio."
Although Missy has sung background vocals on a
few projects in the past, this is the first time
she has ever been featured behind the mic singing
lead on a recording of her own. The combination
of her voice, the music and the production create
quite an ethereal atmosphere that reminds me of
the Rain Parade's classic records in the 1980s.
This is also Missy's first songwriting project,
although she's been a writer by trade for years.
She knows how to use words concisely, boiling
thoughts down to fit into a three minute pop song
and still carry all the weight of the original
idea.
"I have been writing stories and essays since
I was about 10 years old. I've supported myself
as a professional writer/editor for nearly 20
years -- I've been on both sides, journalistic
and corporate, and have done features (my favorite),
news, technical writing, editorials, scripts,
et cetera.
"I've been a freelance writer/editor for
4 years now, mostly high-tech marketing copy and
books (I edited a book that Steven wrote last
year -- we do a lot of work together), plus occasional
magazine editing."
Currently Missy is trying to develop some of the
songs from Just Like Breathing into short stories.
These singular artists are all brought together
in a symphony of talent in Roback’s lonely
tales. A great example of these parts working
together successfully is the title track, which
Missy explains "took a measure of fearlessness
on my part. It's raw, in an understated way."
She sadly sings, "I'm keeping it up/ This
smiling masquerade…" accompanied by
a lone rhythmic piano. The instrumentation is
minimal, but the sound fills the room. A cello
joins at the end of the first verse; as her confession
grows ("I've always said I see both sides/
That doesn't justify your lies…") so
does the arrangement, with the cello adding counter-melody
above her voice. At the end of the second verse,
a bowed upright bass comes in rhythmically along
with the piano and adds a thick wash of darkness
of the type reserved for pivotal scenes in Hitchcock
films.
The intensity builds, and the first lyrical kicker
comes in the third verse.
And after a while
It must be just like breathing
So natural, no need to think
But tell the truth
Does it not get to you?
Or is your conscience on the blink?
"Or is your conscience on the blink?"
Wow. She's not sad, she's mad. We are witnessing
someone laying down the law.
I've always said I see both sides
That doesn't justify your lies
Consider what it's worth to you
'Cause every day you stand to lose
'Til you're just someone I once knew
At this point the piano finally breaks from its
rhythmic pulse and adds some bright melodies way
up high. Hannah Marcus adds airy background vocals
as Missy continues by asking for an end to the
lies. Now she sounds like a pillar of strength
with a Just-Try-To-Fuck-With-Me-Again attitude.
It's chilling, and the music makes it colder.
The song ends with the deal. The final lyrical
kicker.
Consider what it's worth to you
You know each day you stand to lose
But just like breathing you can't stop
So keep it up.
At the end of this song all I can think is, "Holy
shit, I'm glad I'm not him." All the parts
have come together to best transfer the feelings
of loneliness, despair, and anger that come from
the woman in the song.
Sometimes good songwriters can come out of nowhere.
But a songwriter alone does not make a great record.
Just like a three-legged horse won't win the Belmont
Stakes, songwriting chops alone don't make a great
album. With Just Like Breathing, however, Missy
and Steven Roback, along with a well-chosen group
of musicians, have created the total package.
A great CD from top to bottom. — Steve
Gardner
–––––[
H
a r p
]–––––
May 2003
Produced
by husband Steven Roback (ex-Rain Parade), Missy
Roback's debut is a stunner. Her alt-country,
psych-infused songs shimmer with fragile intensity
and are swathed in the kind of atmospheric production
we've come to expect from the Robacks. Check out
the track "Compass" — it's a thing
of sheer beauty. — Scott Crawford
–––––[
D a g g e r
]–––––
#31, Winter/Spring 2003
This
record is stunning. Missy Roback creates 11 slow
‘n’ steady winners and pushes the
envelope with her dreamy vocals and the swoony
guitars which jangle all over the place. There’s
elements of psyche, alt-country and dreamy slowcore
as well and Missy tackles them all with equal
aplomb. This record was produced by The Rain Parade’s
Steven Roback (Missy’s husband? brother?
cousin????), a man who, along with his brother
David (R.P., Mazzy Star, etc.), should have a
small shrine in my household for all the time
I have given to Rain Parade records over the years.
The title track is especially haunting. Do not
miss this record. —
Tim Hinely
–––––[
R
u m o r e
(I
t a l y)
]–––––
December 2002
To
live with a musician like Steven Roback (Rain
Parade/Viva Saturn) has to be a hard temptation
to resist, so his wife Missy has, at the end,
has given up and recorded her own CD in collaboration
with her husband and some other famous artists
such as Tim Mooney (American Music Club) and Leigh
Gregory and Grant Miller (Mandible Chatter) for
the instrumental and technical support of the
CD.
The
CD is very sweet, dreamy folk music built around
Missy’s voice, and it is easy to compare
it to the music of Aimee Mann, the last icon of
the alternative American folk music. Just
Like Breathing is a CD of subtle melancholy
(The Only One, New Britain, Just Like Breathing)
built with the usual little things that enhance
the palpable feeling of loneliness (snowflakes,
the bitter taste of abandonment, stars, scattered
memories) and with languid autumnal arpeggios,
sporadically with a taste of neo-psychedelia (the
already mentioned The Only One was written with
Steven), to spread a soft melodic carpet for the
really beautiful voice of Missy. Another name
to add to the list of the most talented female
singers around today. — Franco "Lys"
Dimauro
(thanks
to Marco Nicosia for the translation)
–––––[
P
a s t e ]–––––
April
2003
Missy
Roback has assembled a stellar cast of San Francisco’s
best session musicians for the melancholy affair
that is her debut recording, Just Like Breathing.
Her husband Steven Roback (ex-Rain Parade, Viva
Saturn) produced the recording and added flourishes
of guitars, keyboards and bass; Tim Mooney (ex-American
Music Club) supplies drums where necessary, and
Leigh Gregory and Grant Miller (Mandible Chatter)
contributed on guitars. But Just Like Breathing
is entirely Roback’s own project.
Her
subtly aching voice earns comparison to Aimee
Mann, as well as Mazzy Star’s Hope Sandoval.
She wrote all 11 cuts on the CD and added stark
piano on the deceitful but breathtaking title
track. Here she makes the creative analogy of
comparing a lover’s lie to the simplicity
of taking a breath—a stark and harrowing
tune, honest in its raw emotion. Roback’s
sincerity and credibility are her strengths as
she tackles love and love lost. On “Sight
Unseen,” she looks back in hindsight at
a relationship that might have been had the narrator
made smarter choices. She’s lost in the
movies of her hometown playing in her head on
“New Britain.”
With
the solid production and musicianship of the stellar
cast behind her, Missy Roback’s Just
Like Breathing is an excellent debut from
a talented songwriter. — Bill Clifford
–––––[
T
r o u s e r
P
r e s s ]–––––
It’s
hard to overstate the value of an inventive producer
to a singer-songwriter —
after all, there’s no shortage of fine voices
in the world, and before one can begin to appreciate
the qualities of a solo performer’s composition,
the arrangement is its crucial calling card. For
an artist with as intimate a mindset as Connecticut-by-way-of-San
Francisco’s Missy Roback, it doesn’t
hurt that her producer, who is also her husband,
is ex-Rain Parade leader Steven Roback, a formidable
pop power in his day — and, evidently, hers.
Just Like Breathing is rich, comfortable
chamber pop —
not too fussy, not too ornate —
in subtle but strong service of songs about relationships
in trouble and emotions in check, loves lost and
found. Roback sings in a firm, inviting alto with
a muscular vibrato; a tinge o’ twang that
adds a come-hither suggestiveness to her late-night
lyrics is echoed in the steel guitar cries of
the opener, “Take It Back.” The deliberate
tempos underscore the fullness of the album’s
instrumentation —
guitars, cello, piano, organ, drums —
while amplifying the impact of such flavorings
as feedback (on “Sight Unseen”), e-bow
(“Compass”) and mellotron (“Sleep
With the Mermaid”). A handsome, engaging,
intelligent debut. —
Ira
Robbins
–––––[
P
o p
C u l t u r e
P r e s
s
]–––––
Spring
2003
Shimmering guitars, beautifully rendered spectral
arrangements, insinuating songs: Missy Roback’s
CD debut, Just Like Breathing, is a startling
collection of rainy-day ballads, mournful tales
of emotional disconnection, and songs of graceful
fragility. With ex-Rain Parader (and husband)
Steven Roback in the producer’s chair, Just
Like Breathing bleeds from gorgeous folk/psych
like New Britain to the brittle, loping country
twang of Blue-Eyed Baby. Though the record’s
dreary mood does become a little overwhelming
over the course of its 11 tracks, virtually every
song sinks deep in your cranium before long, and
Just Like Breathing becomes one of those records
you just keep coming back to. Here’s hoping
a follow-up comes sooner than later. —
Luke
Torn
–––––[
V
e n u s ]–––––
A
unique blend of Missy Roback's intensely emotional
vocals with an alt-country flavor is captured
on her debut album, Just Like Breathing.
Though Roback sets her dreamy vocals to alt-country
arrangements, she's no carbon copy of the genre's
other female cohorts. Her voice is a gentle whisper
compared to a bevy of whiskey-chugging, fast-loving
crooners out there.
Now
in its second pressing, Just Like Breathing has
obviously received some attention for its distinctiveness,
but unlike high-energy alt-country artists such
as The Meat Purveyors, Roback's music doesn't
set out to inspire fervent dance. It's not even
of sing-along caliber; comparisons to singer/songwriters
Aimee Mann and Emmylou Harris are better justified.
Despite her cheery mug on the CD sleeve, Roback
has a penchant for slow tunes that reek of the
lovelorn and hopeless romantics. The exception
is "Blue-Eyed Baby," which is probably
the most upbeat and lively track on the album:
"When I think about you time just slips away
/ I wanna wake up next to you every day."
But the majority of the album milks sadness for
all it's worth. On the opening track, "Take
It Back," Roback sings, "I'm lost in
the darkest feeling / About the life I'm leading."
The title track also resurrects some troubled
sentiments: "I've always said I see both
sides / That doesn't justify your lies."
Though
most of the 11 tracks are cheerless at best, at
least they're sincere and, for the most part,
are Roback's own inventions. Though Just Like
Breathing is described as a "pop record"
produced by her husband, Steven Roback (Rain Parade,
Viva Saturn), Missy Roback's input as a singer/songwriter/guitarist
gives the album much more authority than if it
was entirely written and arranged by a third party.
If
you're prone to a broken heart, Just Like Breathing
may just be your soundtrack. Don't forget the
tissues. —
Erica
Gallagher
–––––[
N
o D e p r e s s i o n
]–––––
Issue
43 (Jan./Feb. 2003)
In
addition to being a gifted singer and songwriter,
San Francisco’s Missy Roback is obviously
a music fan. On this debut (produced by her husband,
Rain Parade and Viva Saturn vet Steven Roback),
her liner-note thank-yous end with the intriguing
trio of Freddie Mercury, Paul Westerberg, and
long-standing pub-punkers the Reducers. Then,
on the Aimee Mann-ish Lady Don, she sets
the scene with this opening couplet: “Bolan
on the radio / And you claimed to know the song
/ Eyes of youth, the guise of truth / And I longed
to sing along.”
But
don’t look to that list of artists for clues
about Roback’s sound. Hers is a delicately
layered folk-pop blend that features enough bite
to keep things from frothing over, with a voice
that shares more than enough emotion to keep it
on the right side of Too Gorgeous For Its Own
Good.
New
Britain, an ode to her Connecticut hometown,
finds organ, understated electric guitar and shining
harmonies teaming up to create the album’s
loveliest moment. Its most memorable one comes
two songs later on the 12-string-sporting Blue-Eyed
Baby. With its pleasing familiarity and charmingly
straightforward presentation, it sounds like something
off Yo La Tengo’s music-geek classic Fakebook.
It’s
become customary to describe gentle, atmospheric
albums like this as being perfect for Sunday morning
— customary enough to become cliché.
So let’s just say Just Like Breathing was
made for really, really late Saturday night. —
Rick Cornell
–––––[
S
w i z z l e - S t i c k ]–––––
Oh
lordy, I hate it when I'm reviewing a female artist
and just end up comparing them to other female
artists — as though their gender is what
defines the music. But as I listen to Missy Roback's
disc again and again (enjoying it each time) I
still find myself thinking of Aimee Mann and Chrissie
Hynde (when Hynde sings a ballad). And, if that's
not enough, the opening track, "Take It Back,"
features sweeping slide guitar work that sounds
like it could have come right off a Mazzy Star
album.
I
suppose such comparisons are going to be unavoidable
because Roback's smooth voice is the center of
this record. It glides over the songs, lulling
listeners and drawing them in. It projects an
effortless strength, sliding up and down through
the songs. The title track is stark, with mostly
her voice and the steady repetition of piano chords.
Meanwhile, "Compass" shows more of a
folk flavor. For the most party, though, the entire
record has a misty and haunting quality that complements
the mostly dour sentiments of the lyrics.
Of
course, when you have a member of American Music
Club (Tim Mooney) helping out with percussion
and engineering work, you shouldn't expect a party
dance mix type of record. Still, it wouldn't have
been a bad idea to provide more "up"
moments. Roback hints that not everything is black
clouds on "Blue-Eyed Baby," but that
is the exception. I enjoy a sad song as much as
the next guy, but it's like a friend who's depressed
— you support them when they are down because
you've seen them when they were happier. The substitution
of a few different songs would show the range
that I'm assuming Roback possesses. After all,
one can't thank Paul Westerberg and Freddie Mercury
in the liner notes without being able to rock
out a bit, can they?
This
is a record to absorb with your eyes shut, listening
for the subtle play of an organ, cello, or piano
drifting through the background. And it's actually
through this subtlety that the lyrics can hit
the hardest. —
James
Baumann
–––––[
U N C
U
T ]–––––
March
2003
3
stars
Dreamy
debut from American singer with perfect pop voice
Despite a horrible cover and an irritating name,
Missy Roback has made a fine debut album. Produced
by Rain Parade’s Steven Roback and mixed
by American Music Club’s Tim Mooney, Just
Like Breathing is as melodic as those connections
would suggest. But dreamy, lo-fi Americana and
haunting psychedelic arrangements are only half
the story. Add Roback’s voice, which has
that angelic quality associated with classic ‘60s
American girl groups, and the juxtaposition is
glorious. —
Nigel
Williamson
–––––[
B u c k e t f u
l l
o f
B
r a i n s
]–––––
Winter
2003
I've
known Missy Roback for 10 years and had no idea
she could even sing. That, out of the blue, she
should come up with a debut album as hauntingly
lovely as this is enough to buckle your knees.
Pure as a mountain stream, Roback's voice fits
right in with a long, storied line of folk/country-influenced
warblers—Judy Collins, Sandy Denny, Barbara
Manning and Emmylou Harris come to mind immediately—who
could tunnel into the central nervous system of
a song with the simplest of tools. Roback's backstreet-bistro
voice, with just the slightest dusting of vibrato,
has nothing to do with operatic flash. The lysergically
baroque production flourishes applied by her husband
Steven (Rain Parade, Viva Saturn) drapes her songs
in a velvet mist of gently moaning guitars, chiming
harpsichord and droning, Pink Floyd-ish organ.
Just Like Breathing would make the perfect soundtrack
to one of those long road trips where you avoid
the super highways and spend most of the day,
instead, on the backroads, looking for the perfect
lunchtime cafe. Like those roadside-diner servers
from David Lynch's Twin Peaks, Missy Roback has
her pink cotton dress on and she's ready to take
your order. —
Jud
Cost
–––––[
I
n
M u s i c
W
e
T
r u s t]–––––
February
2003
San
Francisco singer-songwriter Missy Roback's debut,
Just Like Breathing, is a moody, oft-dark, brooding
blend of acoustic guitars and piano, an elegant
and roots-y approach that helps propel Roback's
folk-pop sound beyond those of her peers. Just
Like Breathing is a relief of fresh air, an album
that holds true to the finest moments of pop and
folk, without ever having to deal with any of
the lesser moments. Her plaintive voice steps
the songs up a few more notches, giving the songs
the depth and follow-through they need to really
make an impact. This is an exceptional debut from
a singer-songwriter that should, by her third
full-length, be a nationally recognized act. I'll
give it an A-. —
Alex
Steininger
–––––[
M A G N E
T ]–––––
Issue
56 (Oct./Nov. 2002)
I’ve known Missy Roback for 10 years and had no
idea she could sing. That, out of the blue, she
should come up with a debut as hauntingly lovely
as this is enough to buckle your knees. Roback’s
voice may not have that Paula Frazer/Joan Baez
operatic flash, but she isn’t working on a 600-page
novel here. Like the concise, understated writing
of Willa Cather, Roback’s work has more in common
with the perfectly rendered short-story form.
The lysergically baroque production flourishes
of Roback’s husband Steven (Rain Parade, Viva
Saturn) drape her songs in a velvet mist of gently
moaning guitars, chiming harpsichord and droning,
Pink Floyd-ish organ. Blue-Eyed Baby fills
out every second of its 1:59 with a ringing, Gram
Parsons-like back-porch feel. The title track
opens with a “MacArthur Park” piano vamp, and
buoyed by Diana Senechal’s cello and the harmony
vocals of fellow San Franciscan Hannah Marcus,
Roback’s astringent ultimatum is the perfect palate-cleansing
antidote for the bombast of the Richard Harris/Jimmy
Webb epic. Heretical though they may seem this
early in Roback’s career, comparisons with the
timeless beauty of Emmylou Harris and Fairport
Convention’s Sandy Denny aren’t out of order.
—
Jud
Cost
–––––[
R
o c k b i t e s ]–––––
Missy
Roback and friends put out instant classic
The weak overcomes the unbending,
and the submissive overcomes the strong —
Lao Tzu, chapter 43
Rain Parade (originally The Sidewalks), the Los
Angeles ’80s “Paisley Underground” poster band
formed by a couple of friends from Minneapolis
(David Roback and Matt Piucci, along with David’s
younger brother Steven), disintegrated in 1988
after a rocky seven years but spawned a family
of notable musical projects including David’s
Clay Allison, Mazzy Star, and Opal; and Steven’s
Viva Saturn, which most directly followed Rain
Parade’s muse.
This
year Steven produced and independently released
two new records. Snowy is a chill-psychedelic
project for vocalist Bonni Evensen; and Just Like
Breathing, out today on his own Hear Kitty label,
is the debut album by his wife, San Francisco
singer/songwriter Missy Roback.
Just
Like Breathing is easily the subtlest record I’ve
heard this year, with dangerously delicate and
fragile musical textures—piano-key noise, breath
sounds, and nearly subliminal background vocals—impeccably
balanced against acoustic guitar, softly played
drums, and gentle electric bass. All of it perfectly
frames Missy’s shy and artless and stunningly
emotive vocals.
The
exceptional production and engineering don’t outshine
the lyrics but rather are all about promoting
them. And as the music draws you in, the words
pierce your heart. On the title track Missy sings
“I’ve always said I see both sides/ That doesn’t
justify your lies/ Consider what it’s worth to
you/ ’Cause every day you stand to lose/ ’Till
you’re just someone I once knew.”
A
casual listen to this record, hearing it in the
background as you do something else, will reveal
just voice and guitar playing slow country-tinged
folk rock. Yes, yes, very nice, nothing special.
But turn off the lights, turn up the volume, or
put on some headphones, and a world unfolds.
On
the album track Sight Unseen, which features
as large an ensemble as any on this set, noise
guitar and plinky piano intermingle with cello,
bass, acoustic percussion, studio effects and
room noises, along with Missy’s multi-tracked,
angelic voice, to create a rainy day soundscape
to lay down and die for.
Players
on Just Like Breathing include Steven on keyboards,
bass, and guitars; Tim Mooney (ex-American Music
Club) on drums and percussion; Leigh Gregory and
Grant Miller (from SF ambient duo Mandible Chatter)
on guitars; and Diana Senechal on cello.
For
its musical craftiness and sublime beauty, for
its vocal immediacy and lack of pretension, and
for its lyrical poignancy, Just Like Breathing
has more “Oh, fuck” and gives-me-chills moments
than any record in recent memory. Five
bites out of five.
Rockbites
ratings 5: life changing, 4: stunning, 3: captivating,
2: amusing, 1: annoying.
–––––[
A
l l
M u s i c
G u i d
e
]–––––
On
her debut album, Just Like Breathing, San Francisco
singer-songwriter Missy Roback weighs in with
the kind of pensive, literate sweetness that heretofore
seemed the sole domain of Aimee Mann. Roback's
is a layered, moody blend of folk-pop that steers
wide of most predictable alt-singer/songwriter
fare. "Sight Unseen" and "Take
It Back" are a pair of ruminative beauties
wrapped in escalating, atmospheric production
courtesy of Missy's husband, Steven Roback (formerly
of '80s paisley underground heroes Rain Parade).
And Missy's unobtrusively earnest vocals and songwriting
are the perfect foil for her husband's production
touches, which add enough of an ethereal quality
to the proceedings without losing the songs in
the haze. "Compass," meanwhile, is a
drop-dead gorgeous number bolstered by an almost
back-porch instrumental feel, with sweet electric
guitar noodlings weaving in and out of acoustic
guitar, cello, and drums which are dealt only
glancing blows. This is a subtle and fragile album
with a deceptively strong pulse. Players on Just
Like Breathing include Steven (keyboards, bass,
and guitars), Tim Mooney (American Music Club)
on drums and Diana Senechal on cello. —
Erik Hage
–––––[
H
i g h B i a s
]–––––
Singer/songwriter
Missy Roback has a gem of a pop record in her
debut Just Like Breathing. Producer/husband Steven
Roback (formerly of the Rain Parade and Viva Saturn)
gives her a sparkling, folkish backdrop, with
gently distorted electric guitars, lush acoustic
guitars, tasteful percussion, warm keyboards and
melodic basslines framing her intimate vocals.
But the greatest virtues of this platter are the
songs themselves. Roback explores the exquisite
pain of heartbreak in Nearest Star, Take
It Back and Compass, breathes the refreshing
air of forgiveness in The Only One and
picks at the raw wound of betrayal in the title
track. She celebrates the positive aspects of
human relationships in the tender, loving Blue-Eyed
Baby, but mostly she dwells on the troublesome
side of this thing called love. With her lovely
voice and her husband's immediately appealing
accompaniment delivering the bad news, it sounds
like she's working through it, though. Rotten
love never sounded so good. —
Michael
Toland
For
fans of Aimee Mann, Marti Jones, Ken Stringfellow
–––––[
E n t e r t a i
n m e n t
N e w s
&
R
e v i e w s
]–––––
There
could probably be a no more descriptive title
for this charming debut by Missy Roback. Indeed,
Roback’s breathy vocals and hypnotic harmonies
are as soothing and gentle as the breath of life
itself. With husband Steven Roback (one-time leader
of the hugely influential West Coast combo Rain
Parade) supplying the swirling psychedelic tapestry
that cushions these songs, Roback opts for a soft,
supple sound that stays consistent throughout
this eleven-song set. So while there’s little
variation in the mood or tempo, the album as a
whole creates an ethereal ambiance that effectively
establishes her style. Dreamy yet dramatic, her
breathy vocals provide a soothing caress that
soars in sync with Steven’s cosmic trappings,
particularly on songs like Lady Don, Sight
Unseen, Compass, and Nearest Star,
some of the loveliest tracks the album has to
offer. Slight variations come in the form of Missy’s
big ballad, Take It Back, and the lilting
Blue-Eyed Baby, a tune that takes on slight
countryish overtones.
J
ust Like Breathing is one of those albums that
may not necessarily take hold immediately. With
its ethereal atmospherics, it tends to have more
of a hypnotic effect as opposed to the more compelling
effects that instant hooks and ready refrains
can provide. Nevertheless, it’s an album
that has more than its share of charm and pleasures.
Just like breathing, it seems to come naturally.
—
Lee
Zimmerman
–––––[
S p l e n d i d
]–––––
With
names like Steven Roback (Rain Parade) and Tim
Mooney (American Music Club) in her liner notes,
Missy Roback has the indie cred to stand out from
the crowded field of alt-country chanteuses....
Sight Unseen starts with a quiet, eerie,
pulsing effect, and also features cello and an
intense electric guitar line. The song is neither
country nor folk, but more like the dreamy melancholic
pop that Steven's Rain Parade partner David Roback
(musical family, these Robacks) made in Mazzy
Star. It also features some of the disc's finest
singing. When Roback croons, "Sometimes it
seems we trade our dreams for safer means,"
it'll break your heart. And then there's Just
Like Breathing, a piano-driven gem that, despite
featuring rather simplistic chording, is haunting,
powerful and unique. A final highlight is the
disc's closer, the mournful Sleep with the
Mermaid, in which another very interesting
effect (listen to this one on your headphones)
is layered with straightforward slow guitar strum
and impassioned singing. Missy overdubs several
beautiful vocal lines, and in fact sounds like
a siren who's sure to lure many sailors to wonderful
destruction. —
J.
Berk
–––––[
T
o n e
a n d
G r o o
v e
]–––––
November
2002
You
have to be patient with this record. Missy Roback
sings in a nice but understated murmur, about
3/4 Aimee Mann and 1/4 Nina Gordon which, at first,
does not exactly command attention. The music
itself is equally subtle, but often to the point
of inconspicuousness. And for anyone who wishes
to quickly categorize (and thus ignore) things,
about half of these songs could be quite easily
classified as alt.country (Take It Back,
Compass, Blue-Eyed Baby) or folk-pop
(Lady Don, New Britain), pretty-enough
examples of things which are nevertheless not
exactly in short supply. Let this album take its
time and sink in, though, and it reveals things
that are not obvious at first. Husband Steven
Roback's (of the 80's band The Rain Parade) production,
especially on the slower songs (Sight Unseen,
Nearest Star, Sleep With The Mermaid),
is reminiscent of Daniel Lanois' work on the more
recent Emmylou Harris records, quiet and unhurried
but densely atmospheric, with murky guitar feedback
sneaking into the background at unexpected times.
Most of the lyrics here read like post-relationship
reflections, but Missy's uneasy, fragile vocals
always sound as if she is just on the brink of
tears. The result then, if you stick with it,
is haunting and surprisingly unsettling. —
Jer
Fairall
–––––[
A
q u a r i u s
R e c o
r d s
]–––––
With
her clear, velvety voice steeped in emotion and
yearning, Missy Roback easily draws comparisons
to Aimee Mann or Margot Timmins of Cowboy Junkies.
She sings with such enviable grace and ease. As
well, there's quite a few things in common with
the recent debut from fellow-SFer Snowy (aka Bonni
Evensen). Apart from the striking vocal similarities,
there's also the presence of Steve Roback (ex-Rain
Parade) and Tim Mooney (ex-American Music Club)
on her team — handling the production and
mix duties, respectively, as well as playing a
number of the instruments — not to mention
that this, too, is a polished, impressive debut.
She blends the sounds of swirling chamber pop,
ghostly psych-twang, and maybe even some '60s
girl group balladry thrown in for good measure.
The result? A lovely album that's refined, self-assured
and composed. Hannah Marcus guests on the title
track.
–––––[
N
e w
B r i t a i n
H e r a
l d
]–––––
Oct.
18, 2002
The
real truth is that had no idea that the Missy
Roback CD I was listening to was the Missy Archacki
album.
I
tell you this because I want you to understand
that I had some critical distance the first few
times I listened to this fabulous new CD before
I realized it had been created by someone I knew.
So I'll start with the album.
It's
called "Just Like Breathing," and it's
an evocative, atmospheric, lovely, contemplative
piece of work. The songs rock gently, and the
lyrics explore the plight of broken hearts, the
magnetic appeal of secret passions, the true distance
of old hometowns and the succor of sweet dreams.
Archacki
is a gifted songwriter and a singer with a delivery
as heartfelt as it is true. She reminds me a bit
of Aimee Mann, who explores the deep recesses
of the heart while keeping a weary, ironic eye
on the rest of the world. You might not find it
in your local record store, but you can find out
more by going to www.hearkittyrecords.com.
The
third time through this engaging disk, I finally
cracked the liner notes and even the photos didn't
give it away. Instead it was the song entitled
New Britain. Who? I asked myself.
So
I dug deeper, and saw the name of guitarist Grant
Miller, an old friend from WWUH. Now the name
began to ring bells.
Missy.
Of course, Missy. Then I looked at the picture
more closely. It was Missy, Missy Archacki --
though she was now Missy Roback.The last time
I saw her, her hair was a fluorescent shade of
orange. And here she was looking stylish and hip,
and adult.
I
met Missy at WWUH, where she was a student and
I was a community volunteer. She was quirky, creative,
a writer, and as I found out, from my hometown.
We shared interest in similar music, and when
she went off to San Francisco to pursue a career
as a writer I even connected with her (and with
Grant), on a visit to the city for a burger at
the now-defunct Hamburger Mary's.
Missy
is still a writer. She's married to a rock musician
who achieved some fame as a member of Rain Parade,
and he's helped her produce an album that shows
a new depth to her creativity. I'm still listening
to it, and discovering new musical ideas and lyrical
hooks. I'd like it even if I didn't know Missy.
—
Ed
McKeon
Ed
McKeon hosts a folk and roots radio show each
Wednesday from 6 to 9 a.m. on WWUH, 91.3 FM (wwuh.org).
–––––[
D r e a m
M a g a z i n e ]–––––
I’ll
admit to being a bit biased in this review. Missy
and her husband/producer Steven Roback were kind
enough to let me use one of the tracks from this
CD on my last issue’s compilation disc. That song,
Sleep with the Mermaid, which closes this album,
got a lot of positive reader/listener response.
I’m happy to tell you that if you enjoyed the
Mazzy Star-meets-Aimee Mann sound of that track,
you’ll be delighted with this sterling collection
of 11 gentle melodic folk rock gems. Missy has
a perfect voice for radio, if radio still played
real music: a warm and cool clear high instrument.
She’s also a fine songwriter, penning all of the
tracks here except one, which she wrote with Steven.
The sound is impeccable, with engineering by Tim
Mooney (ex-American Music Club). This is one of
the most dreamily lovely releases to bloom under
the Americana banner in many moons, but it will
appeal to the mellower end of the space rocker
spectrum equally as well.
— George Parsons
–––––[
M i l e s
o f |
