Shannon McArdle reviewed
Shannon McArdle
Summer Of The Whore
(Bar None)
Former Mendoza Line frontwoman Shannon McArdle lies back on the couch and drops truckloads of divorce-flavored pathology.
American marriages end at an astonishingly high rate. Divorce’s commonality does not make it much easier to endure, however, which is maybe why musicians don’t record many divorce albums. The cold-hearted jerk inside us should lament this fact, because the searing pain makes for much better songs than run-of-the-mill breakups.
There’s a lot of chatter that McArdle’s Summer Of The Whore turns a new page for the subgenre. As such, it’s easy to follow the Liz Phair-ish red herring of indie-girl-with-potty-mouth. Where the Phair comparisons ring true is in McArdle’s scathing reassessment of her self-worth. The title track, dedicated to an ill-conceived cycle of vengeful, casual sex, couples its lust with flatlining confidence: “All these months since he left me/has emptied me out to the core.” The near-chronological sequencing keeps her focused; instead of notebook scrawlings we have a plot of a woman not only in vain pursuit of another mate, but a reason to keep going.
There’s music, too. McArdle doesn’t have much of a voice to work with, so she takes chances with her girlish whisper in kitschy retro pop (“Leave Me For Dead”), demure vamping (“Poison My Cup”), and Velvet-y deconstruction (“Come, Autumn Breeze”). Summer almost makes a convincing argument for not talking things out.
8
— Steve Forstneger
