Joan As Police Woman – The Classic

[rating=7.00]

The Classic— released under the solo moniker Joan as Police Woman— is Joan Wasser’s fourth solo effort in a decade. She has been recording and touring steadily since 2006, garnering a plethora of accolades and a deeply-invested fanbase, if not a profile high enough to match her talent. If you’re unfamiliar with Wasser and her work, The Classic is apt to surprise you from the first moment the singer opens her mouth. Her dark, finely-etched good looks (very much on display in the record’s stunning cover photo) might put you in mind of a coloratura’s soaring head voice, or the smooth stylings of a Mediterranean folk singer. But New England-born Wasser lets loose with a smoky, blues-infused alto whose nasal snarl can’t help but evoke Amy Winehouse and the generations of female blues artists who’ve influenced both of them. Part of what’s been fascinating about Wasser’s music is how she uses her bluesy voice across genre, writing songs that dabble in rock and folk and alternative pop. It’s not that she’s never played with blues/soul before, but it’s the mission statement of The Classic, and serves as the record’s unifying vision.

“Witness” thunders onstage first, sounding like Fiona Apple’s “Criminal” re-envisioned by Etta James. Lead single “Holy City” is glazed with Motown; doo-wop forms the foundation for the title track, the record’s standout ballad. Unfortunately, The Classic does suffer from that classic (haha) misstep when it comes to record construction: the back half is comprised of mostly downtempo, hookless numbers which suffer in comparison to the showier first half. “What Would You Do” and “New Year’s Day” are vaguely lovely but pass without leaving much of an impression. Even the ‘70s R&B of “Shame” and “Stay” don’t quite land with as much visceral impact as the more soul-flavored tracks. By the time we get to record-ender “Ask Me” with its chill reggae inflections, Wasser’s dance with genre has turned from flirtation to something that feels more akin to tourism. Her hybridization on her previous records and on the first half of The Classic resulted in something fresh—music occupying a previously unoccupied space—but as The Classic winds to its conclusion, this hybridization feels rote as opposed to inspired.

Still, that shouldn’t diminish the profile of The Classic’s standout tracks. The first four songs in particular are among Wasser’s most direct, immediately-impactful compositions, and easily some of the best in her already distinguished catalogue. “Good Together,” The Classic’s haunting, magisterial centerpiece, epitomizes everything that’s working effectively on the record’s other standouts. A slow-burning groove; a melody always hovering in the minor key; and a raspy, vulnerable vocal from Wasser, who pleads in the chorus, “Don’t wanna be nostalgic for something that never was.” Wasser’s lyrics are serviceable if not necessarily always stunning, but this particular sentiment catches you under your ribs with the incisiveness of its observation. Who hasn’t fallen prey to the trap of being wistful for a scenario that you’ve only imagined? Wasser sings the line with a paradoxical combination of passion and weariness, exhausted by her own fruitless fantasies as much as she’s determined to stop letting them control her. She sounds like a woman about to shake apart from the stress of holding up under her own competing impulses. If that’s not the very essence of the blues— as evidenced by artists across nearly a century from Ma Rainey and Bessie Smith to Amy Winehouse herself— I don’t know what is.