by Hayden Godfrey (@HaydenGodfreyy)
“Do you hear the waves breaking?” asks Portland, Maine-based singer-songwriter Liza Victoria, who records under the name Lisa/Liza, on the penultimate track of her latest record, Shelter of a Song. With her voice almost breaking, Victoria appears to be leading listeners towards beach-like landscapes and cloudless summer afternoons. Despite what the lyrics suggest, the record isn’t so much the sonic embodiment of breaking waves or rushing water. Instead, it sounds distinctly like a crackling fire or the warmth of a freshly poured cup of tea. Moreso than the sun, all of the songs seem to point to the moon as sonic inspiration.
Like many whispery folk records of the last decade, Shelter should be understood in the context within which it was conceived and captured: it was recorded entirely live in the kitchen of a studio apartment in Central Maine. Featuring only Victoria’s vocals and accompanied guitar, it’s almost as instrumentally scarce as a record can be. In the best way possible, it feels and sounds exactly like the conditions under which it was recorded; it’s stupidly intimate and strikingly nuanced.
If there’s one thing about the album that sets it apart from its contemporaries, it’s Victoria’s willingness to be real and genuine in the recording process. On some occasions, like the majority of the verses on “From This Shelter“ and the outro to “I Am Handed Roses,“ the frets on her acoustic guitar buzz intermittently and slight vocal blemishes squeak through the mix. The record clearly wasn’t created in a pristinely controlled studio environment, but it doesn’t try to pretend that it was. As a result, Shelter is creaky, raw, and near-silent in all the right places.
Every song is natural and open, with “The Sun, A Wolf” and the subsequent “Red Leaves” exemplifying the light acoustic weightlessness that really shines a positive light on Victoria’s subtle vocal timbre. Though incredibly delicate, Victoria’s whispers can sometimes turn to mumbles. On the opening track, “Dark Alleys,” for instance, her tone is gorgeous, but the vocal enunciation makes it difficult to fully understand and internalize the lyrics. The same goes for the stunning final track, “Not Ours,” which is melodically superb, but lacks coherent narrative accompaniment in the form of pronounced lead vocals.
It may not present the most enlightening vocal narratives, nor do Victoria’s song structures move mountains in terms of complexity or memorability, but Shelter of a Song is a well-balanced effort. In its imperfection and honesty, Lisa/Liza has yet again created an anthology of songs that, while occasionally flawed, offers an undisturbed and soothing atmosphere.