By Roy Kasten
By Kris Wernowsky
By Chaz Kangas
By Joseph Hess
By Julie Seabaugh
By Mike Appelstein
By Rachel Brodsky
By Kelsey McClure
Let us depress you/That's what we're here for/Give us an hour and you'll wish you'd never been born. -- Larissa Dalle, "Theme Song"
"I don't really think I'm morbid," Larissa Dalle says as she sips her second Guinness. She's wearing an old Fleetwood Mac tour T-shirt, sitting in a booth at the Delmar Lounge. "I think it goes beyond morbid; it's just human nature. Not everybody's cheery. I've just always been attracted to sad, tragic songs, all my life. As a kid, I listened to a lot of Billie Holiday, and my mom would say, 'Maybe you shouldn't listen to that so much!'" Dalle laughs. "But she has a Finnish background, and then she found out that the Finns love those kinds of songs."
Dalle has just released a new CD of seven such songs (eight, if you count the "Theme Song" reprise), That's What We're Here For, which she recorded with Chris Deckard at Radio Penny Studios. Although her band's musical lineup has shifted somewhat since she started recording last summer, the core remains: Dalle on vocals and rhythm guitar, Stephanie Recht on percussion, Ed Rook on bass. James Weber, of the Julia Sets, contributes some strangely beautiful lead guitar and overdubs to all but two tracks on the CD, but he no longer has time to play with them live. Neither do Chuck Hestand and Kevin Buckley, whose electric-guitar work also pops up on several cuts. These days, Jason Rook (Ed's brother and Dalle's boyfriend) is playing lead guitar and mandolin. The personnel change has led to a new stylistic focus for Dalle. "James was more on the rock side, psychedelic kind of stuff," Dalle explains. "Once I knew he wouldn't be playing with me anymore, I just kind of had to pick a direction. I'd been fighting it for so long, this traditional-country thing. But I just like it, and all the musicians I'm working with now came to the decision that we'd focus on one style."
This means Dalle won't be performing the moody rock dirges "Glitter Girls" and "Geronimo" much anymore, unfortunately. Of "Glitter Girls," a song she wrote for her little sister as a Christmas present, Dalle says, "I'm really proud of it; I just don't think it fits in well with the songs I'm doing now live. But if my sister ever comes to a show, we'll probably play it. She's 20 years younger than me, but I'd never had any siblings. We can be girls together."
Dalle's new emphasis on traditional country music stems from her own childhood memories: "I went back to the stuff I'd been listening to as a kid, and it seemed to fit right in," she explains. "Bobbie Gentry was probably the biggest influence on me when I was little, and I think we're going to do one of her songs. Linda Ronstadt, Loretta Lynn, Kitty Wells ... it felt really good to get back to my roots. I can play songs in my set now and my mom will hear them and go, 'Oh my God, I remember she listened to that in fifth grade!' And not being embarrassed about influences and stuff -- I think Linda Ronstadt has such an amazing voice. If I could, I'd probably do a whole set of Linda Ronstadt songs, but maybe I'll wait till I'm older and doing some lounge act," Dalle says, laughing self-deprecatingly.
"It's really taken me a long time to find my own voice, to not be afraid of sounding like me," she continues. "Stevie Nicks was a huge vocal influence. Dolly Parton, Billie Holiday -- I loved Billie Holiday, but I knew I could never sound like her. I went to U. City High, and all these girls in choir had these huge gospel voices. I wanted to be that so bad, but I knew deep down that I'd never sound like them. It's taken a long time for me to say that this is what I sound like, for better or for worse."
Judging from her lovely, strange new CD and her too-rare live performances, it's definitely for the better. Dalle has a sweet, raspy vibrato that occasionally hurtles into a surprisingly powerful yodel; a writerly gift for detail; and a way of twisting a love song until it's more than a little disturbing. One of the CD's most moving tracks is a love song to Helen Keller, sung from the point of view of a child who's obsessed with books featuring "cripples" and "crooks": "Mama always said, Don't stare at the sky/Girl, you look there long enough, you're bound to go blind/But at Sunday school one day, we saw a lovely film/Patty Duke and a water pump, and I fell.... Her wild hair, her dead-doll eyes/Her silent world, her crooked smile/I set my sights too high, and I left my mind alone/If I couldn't be a star, why then a-maiming I would go." Another song, the poignant, delicately observed "Far From Lonely," is sung from the perspective of a melancholy doll who dreams of waking up under someone's Christmas tree. Dalle wrote "Far From Lonely" for last year's local-music Christmas compilation Better Than Fruitcake.