by Tom Alexander (@___alexd)
Part of the Fran mythos is that Maria Jacobson, the lead songwriter, vocalist, and guitarist for the band, was an actor before she was a musician. You might think that her debut album A Private Picture would be a performative, theatrical affair, but you’d be mistaken. As the name suggests, A Private Picture feels vulnerable and intimate. Where the stereotype of actors is that they want to inhabit the lives of others, that couldn’t be further from Fran’s truth. This record, and Fran’s music, is a deep dive into Jacobson’s own ego, trudging up hard truths, contradictory feelings, and exposed nerves.
The first three tracks of A Private Picture offer a small sampler of the three gears of Jacobson’s songwriting. “Now” is a beautiful minimalist piece; with scarcely more than an electric guitar and vocals, Fran begins the record with this invocation to being present in the face of anxiety and insecurity. “Company”, the loudest track on the record, deftly shows off the band’s sense of scale and dynamics. A wall of distortion rips through, interrupting and otherwise playful delivery. “So Surreal,” the most uptempo and immediately catchy of the bunch, is pure power pop. Throughout A Private Picture, Fran cycles between these three styles, blending them together: pop-centric minimalist tracks (“(I Don’t Want You To Think) I’ve Moved On”), minimalist songs with fantastic dynamics (“A Private Picture”), or dynamic songs with incredible hooks (“In My Own Time”).
While Fran’s beating heart and racing mind may be Jacobson’s own, the band’s lineup is what brings the muscle, sinew, arms, and legs to A Private Picture. Bret Koontz’s gentle guitarwork and keys adorn the songs beautifully. Ashley Guerrero’s drums intuitive and restrained. Jake Acosta’s bass lines are McCartney-esque in the way they frame Fran’s melodies. Above all, every member seems to be operating from the exact same playbook: less is more. Every moving piece on this album serves to complement and elevate the lyrics. In that way, A Private Picture takes on the surprising life as a blues record – granted, it doesn’t have the same sound of a blues record, but it certainly feels like one, with its tasteful instrumentation and intimate portrait of its narrator. Taking a trip into someone’s internal dialog rarely feels this warm, inviting, and lovely.