What do Amy Miles, Liz Phair, Poe and Suzanne Vega have in common? Well, they're all singer/songsters who write introspective-but-skewed songs about typical subjects. It's difficult to anticipate what's coming around the corner as you skip through their CDs; all of them write what they want, eschewing the trends and making radio bend to them if it wants a piece of the action (i.e. Ms. Vega vs. DNA's "Tom's Diner"). However, if you're going to try and bundle Amy Miles into this pack just because she's female, you might as well say DJ Spooky and Nelly have a lot in common. Bastard.
Now that we have the comparisons out of the way, let's get to the heart of the matter.
Miles's gift is her ability to tell you a story that you want to hear. Her lyrics let you know exactly what's on her mind, what she's been dying to tell you. Luckily, once she has your attention, she'll keep you interested. Album opener "Kill to Know" establishes her modus operandi: she teases us with "I know something you'd kill to know; I'll go public in my own time", and does the latter, giving us the finger and keeping the best dirt to herself. Throughout the album, she plays her gentle cynicism against heartfelt confessions -- most notably on "Marry You Again" ("I married a young lady and ran after we said I do because the best man said to...why couldn't I wear the dress long enough and I mean wear that dress all over me") and "Steven" ("I hate myself about almost as much as I hate you. I'll break us both to pieces just so we're even, Steven").
Miles's music is as interesting as her words -- something that doesn't happen as often as it should in the we-need-a-hit singer/songwriter community. It's not just folky-filler strumming; there's a pleasing variety of instrumental texture, and each song feels like a good deal of thought went into orchestration and mixing. Wisely, Miles doesn't attempt to match music with lyrics (i.e. minor key for sad stories); on the contrary, her music revels in incongruity and irony, so we're forced to decide how to feel. For example, "End of the Dock"'s grim subject matter ("the dogs jumped in, the birds flew round; pushed or did she jump in to drown; three tons hung on my very best friend's back") sounds like a lullaby, accompanied by lush acoustic guitar, cello-like synth and a reggae beat.
On the basis of Dirty Stay-Out, it's clear that Miles is more than a flavor of the month or a marketable face. The quality here is so consistent that it's hard to believe this is her debut; it's frightening to think of what she'll create when she has more experience (she's currently writing and performing with Craig Wedren). Will the mainstream latch onto it? Well, Miles wouldn't be the first impressive talent to labor in obscurity. Hopefully she'll catch a break.
