This is a collection of (mainly) traditional Irish songs from this Minneapolis singer. Oberg has a fine voice, her supporting musicians aren't short of ability and there isn't a dud song to be found here. It's exactly the kind of thing that I really like, wherein lies the problem... The songs on this CD are all so familiar that anyone who's been collecting records of this music for a while will already have a cherished version that they've come to regard as "definitive."
The very first track "Rambling Irishman" provides a good case in point. When De Dannan recorded this one, they were in the happy position of being able to assign backing and harmony vocals to Mary Black, while the peerless Dolores Keane took the song. Oberg's guitarists (John Wright and Steve Lehto) work up some impressive picks 'n' licks on "High Germany," and "The Blacksmith," so it's perhaps unfair (but inevitable) to draw comparisons with the Steeleye Span versions as Maddy Prior and Martin Carthy aren't the easiest acts to follow. "Raglan Road", and "The Foggy Dew" have both been recorded by Sinead O'Connor, who might not be everyone's first choice as a singer of traditional songs, but nonetheless turned out hugely distinctive versions. The fact that her backing band was a bunch of musicians collectively known as The Chieftains didn't harm her cause, either.
To her credit, Oberg does make a good attempt at asserting her own identity on the arrangements of the songs, utilising a range of percussion and effected instruments such as acoustic guitar channelled through a Leslie speaker. In this respect, she's working along similar lines to Susan McKeown, but there you go, we're off on those comparisons again. She's also varied the tempo of several songs (from the familiar versions) which occasionally gives the impression of lyrics being a little rushed. In the case of Tommy Makem's "Ballybay," she's gone for the opposite tack, slowing the song right down. "Ballybay" is one of those mouth music nonsense-songs that relies on the inherent percussive rhythm of the language to accompany step dancing, thigh slapping and general merry making. Performing it at a funereal, hymn-like pace seems to defeat the object of the exercise.
Oberg and her band certainly give it plenty of "welly", on the Scots song "Donald McGillavry", but then you remember the Silly Wizard version, stick it on the turntable (or CD player), and it's "game over ." The title track is the old Stephen Foster classic "Hard Times." If you already own Emmylou Harris At The Ryman, then you'll have decided long ago to accept no substitutes. The other songs on the CD are "The Man from Connemara", "Come by the Hills", "The Water is Wide" (a standout track), and "North Americay."
When all's said and done, this CD should achieve the dual purpose of getting Ms Oberg loads of gigs in the pubs and clubs, and then having a really good quality to product to sell to the punters once she's there. Certainly anyone coming to this music and repertoire for the first time via Karie Oberg will have chosen an excellent starting place. Hopefully she'll dig a little deeper for her next album which will free her of all those odious comparisons and give her the opportunity to establish herself as a truly distinctive voice.
For now, though, this bold statement from her agency Web site should be taken with more than a pinch of salt: "Karie's solo work is unrivalled in power and authenticity." Try telling that to Dolores Keane, Maddy Prior, Niamh Parsons, Cathie Ryan, Elanor Shanley, Susan McKeown, Karan Casey or Cathy Jordan.
