Hips And Makers

Kristin Hersh: “Hips And Makers” (4AD)

Tormented? Frustrated? Racked with confusion and self-doubt? Is your every waking moment spent in a strength-sapping battle to keep what’s left of your soul together? Yes? Then congratulations, your name is Kristin Hersh, you have just recorded your first solo album and it is, well, intense.

Throwing Muses fans needn’t fret, as the band still exist and will be releasing a follow-up to ‘Red Heaven’ within the year. This is an acoustic interlude; just Kristin, a guitar, a piano, and occasional cello contributions from Jane Scarpantoni, who should be familiar to REM fans. Even more familiar to REM fans should be Michael Stipe, whose vocal harmonies on the opening track (and first single) ‘Your Ghost’ were recorded, as rock star fashion dictates, separately to Kristin’s. You’d never know it; their voices wrap around each other so sweetly.

‘Your Ghost’, along with the childishly delicate and lovely ‘Velvet Days’ are enough to warrant the price of admission, and at least three other songs on Hips And Makers rival them for grace and mystery. But sometimes the air just gets stifling and claustrophobic – ‘The Letter’ would make damn uncomfortable reading (“You comfort me, you make me die, I’m gonna cry, I won’t go home, don’t kill the god of sadness, just don’t let her get you down, see the man inside the book I read, can’t handle his own head, so what the hell am I supposed to do?”) but hear Kristin’s fragile little voice singing those words like she’s pleading for help, and every instinct for self-preservation screams at you to run before she pulls you down with her.

Hersh admitted recently that she finds it impossible to listen to this song herself, which only goes to reinforce the point. Hearing someone disintegrate to music can never be pleasant (except perhaps for fans of Red House Painters).

There’s something else about Hips And Makers you should know. Kristin has included two short instrumentals (‘Sparky’ and ‘Lurch’) that are so beautiful they almost put Bob Mould’s ‘Sunspots’ in the shade. They’re a reason to smile, and you’re probably going to need them . . .

• Lorraine Freeney