Erika Wennerstrom Wins With Emotive Anthems On Solo Debut ‘Sweet Unknown’ (ALBUM REVIEW)

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While the Heartless Bastards have never been known as an especially timid bunch — indeed, their mix of roots and garage rock is generally flush with drama and defiance — the band’s previous efforts could hardly have prepped its followers for the dynamic solo debut of its lead singer and original architect Erika Wennerstrom. Sweet Unknown is a bold and assertive outing, one that that rages, rails and emotes with a heavenly thrust not entirely different from some of the grand oversized anthems offered by Bono and U2.

Even so, obvious comparisons are elusive. The opening instrumental volley of “Extraordinary Love” recalls, admittedly in a very weird way, the prominent psychedelic riff from King Crimson’s “21st Century Schizoid Man.” It makes for a disconcerting segue into the two emotive ballads that follow on its heels, “Letting Go” and “Time.” “The world can take me as I am/I’m just like everybody else, Wennerstrom insists on the former. Yet given this unexpected switch in tone and treatment, it seems likely that she’s selling herself short.

Indeed, Sweet Unknown sounds far deeper and more distinctive than a collection of songs a core member of a band might release on a whim or merely to excise a few creative impulses hindered by the constraints of their day job. Wennerstrom is not only plotting new creative ground here, but also seems to be suggesting that her ambitions can no longer be constrained. An emotive singer, she’s clearly aiming to scale higher ground and create a sound that’s eloquent and impassioned all at the same time. These songs represent a sense of true liberation, a personal mantra tied to her own affirmation. And in turn, “Be Good to Yourself,” “Like a Bird” and “Good To Be Alone” ought to appeal to anyone who’s been oppressed or misunderstood. Given today’s cynical and sadistic world, the message becomes all the more meaningful.

“What the hell do I really want in my life,” Wennerstrom asks herself on “Staring Out the Window,” one of the more morose songs of the set. Introspective but illuminating, as well as sensuous and spellbinding all at the same time, these therapeutic tomes might indeed unearth a few answers.

While the Heartless Bastards have never been known as an especially timid bunch — indeed, their mix of roots and garage rock is generally flush with drama and defiance — the band’s previous efforts could hardly have prepped its followers for the dynamic solo debut of its lead singer and original architect Erika Wennerstrom. Sweet Unknown is a bold and assertive outing, one that that rages, rails and emotes with a heavenly thrust not entirely different from some of the grand oversized anthems offered by Bono and U2.

Even so, obvious comparisons are elusive. The opening instrumental volley of “Extraordinary Love” recalls, admittedly in a very weird way, the prominent psychedelic riff from King Crimson’s “21st Century Schizoid Man.” It makes for a disconcerting segueway into the two emotive ballads that follow on its heels, “Letting Go” and “Time.” “The world can take me as I am/I’m just like everybody else, Wennerstrom insists on the former. Yet given this unexpected switch in tone and treatment, it seems likely that she’s selling herself short.

Indeed, Sweet Unknown sounds far deeper and more distinctive than a collection of songs a core member of a band might release on a whim or merely to excise a few creative impulses hindered by the constraints of their day job. Wennerstrom is not only plotting new creative ground here, but also seems to be suggesting that her ambitions can no longer be constrained. An emotive singer, she’s clearly aiming to scale higher ground and create a sound that’s eloquent and impassioned all at the same time. These songs represent a sense of true liberation, a personal mantra tied to her own affirmation. And in turn, “Be Good to Yourself,” “Like a Bird” and “Good To Be Alone” ought to appeal to anyone who’s been oppressed or misunderstood. Given today’s cynical and sadistic world, the message becomes all the more meaningful.

“What the hell do I really want in my life,” Wennerstrom asks herself on “Staring Out the Window,” one of the more morose songs of the set. Introspective but illuminating, as well as sensuous and spellbinding all at the same time, these therapeutic tomes might indeed unearth a few answers.