Ever had that dream where you wake up and the whole world has become a Paolo Coelho novel? You wander around at one with the sand, and the wind, and the stars, and you suddenly realise that your sole purpose on this earth is to love, and to make that special someone feel complete? You know the one, where we suddenly understand what it is to have a soul through a little bit of stating the obvious? No? Me neither, actually, but I think it’s a possibility after putting on ‘GEA,’ the seventh album by singer songwriter MIA DOI TODD.
Many flippant things are going to be said over the next few paragraphs, so first a few more serious comments. Mia has a great voice, it’s soothing and quite moving. It’s a voice you can relax to, there is something very calming about listening to her. Some of the music on this album as well is classically brilliant. It takes you back to nature with guitars sounding like babbling brooks. The tunes are not bad at all – they are competent, well put together ambient, acoustic songs. She moves from sorrowful laments (‘Kokoro’) to rather sensual mid-tempo suggestive numbers (‘Can I Borrow You?’) with ease, and there are wide range of instruments employed throughout. These songs don’t fall into the pattern of being similar or dull – variety is certain present.
But too much of it is just plain cheesy. The lyrics really let down both the voice and the musician. The album opens with the ten minute ‘River of Life/The Yes Song.’ Your enjoyment of this song rests on how in touch you are with your hippy side, because this is just the beginning of the tried and tested saccharine rhetoric that is gushed out over the course of ‘GEA.’
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She makes me feel very cynical indeed. Ashamed in a way that I cannot appreciate what she means when she sings “River, river, river, river, river of life.” I’m sure it means something to her, but to me I just hear a cliché being trotted out. I can’t help but feel entirely loveless when “On the night of a thousand kisses, we looked into the void” makes me cringe instead of empathise with the prospect of broken hearts.
These just aren’t sentiments that seem real or relevant in 2008. It smacks of pop-spirituality, a songbook of lyrics formed from reading one self-help book too many and discovering your inner-Arabian Princess or something. There’s nothing wrong with folk music being steeped in the past, but there’s something so unnatural about all of this.
If you can ignore what she’s singing, this album is like a back massage. It should be reiterated that the music itself is all very nice – accomplished in being genuinely relaxing. It’s a special voice that does convey emotion very well. Sadly, the words being conveyed leave me completely cold. I don’t think I’m the target market for this music, but it may well be the perfect soundtrack for the menopause. It could make you very popular next time Mothers Day comes round.
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