[rating=7.00]
If Inara George’s Dearest Everybody proves anything, it’s that she not need trade on her lineage in any way shape or form (she’s the daughter of Little Feat’s co-founder and figurehead Lowell George). The woman’s first solo album since 2009 exhibits an idiosyncratic voice also present in Inara’s other projects, The Bird and the Bee and the Living Sisters, an attribute producer Mike Andrews knows how to frame with sensitivity.
As a result, a song like “Young Adult” doesn’t sound self-serving, but, rather, self-aware. The baroque touches of keyboards bring out the whimsy in the song itself, while George’s deceptively lissome voice turns more resolute with each passing verse she sings (and her overdubbed harmonies reinforce that impression). There’s a sense of adventure here too, a facet of Andrews’ restrained touch. Similarly, the simplicity of an arrangement prominently featuring acoustic guitar for “Crazy” reflects the direct and purposeful emotional connection(s) Inara George usually aims for on Dearest Everybody. Accordingly, the earthy acceptance she tosses off with deceptive nonchalance on “Somewhere New” almost renders the instrumental backing superfluous. In contrast, acoustic piano and bass imbue “Take Me to Paris” with a dignified air as befits the composition; in light of such astute accompaniment, it’s odd then that, as the album progresses, the more involved the tracks, like “Slow Dance,” is more generic is the end result, perhaps a direct reflection of less original thinking in the material.
The ‘sweet cliché’s Inara references during “All For All” are still cliches, and she (just barely) avoids the mawkish on “Release Me.” Unfortunately, she (almost) wallows in sentimentality on “Stars” where the spare strings are not enough to offset the effect. By the arrival of “House on Valentine,” the penultimate of the dozen tracks that comprise Dearest Everybody, the precious air of the title might cause the uninitiated to long for something less ethereal (and find it in her other collaborative projects perhaps?). Regardless, the continuity of atmosphere here, delicate as it is in the form of the arch intimacy of “Everybody,” compels way more than just a little admiration.
