Liz Janes' solo debut, Done Gone Fire, is quietly compelling and dreamily remote. There is a raw, straight-to-tape, back-porch quality to these recordings, reminiscent of Cat Power, that makes Janes' work seem like a lost 78 rpm folk record. With help from Sufjan Stevens and Megan Smith of Danielson Famile, Janes ignites old spirituals that float through the pines where the sun never shines and conjures the Holy Ghost with a sexual rasp. Songs like "2 a.m." shuffle eerily like Low and then Janes adds layers of feedback noise against the simple melody. "Proposition" trods through the blues, the title track sounds like a traditional, and "Tristeza" conjures an epic melancholy. The improvisation, mistakes, and studio chatter that are sprinkled throughout Done Gone Fire can seem haphazard or under-produced, but it is part of the album's charm. Janes' epiphanies and fumbles combine to make something that seems powerfully immediate, dangerously secret, and almost too real.
Done Gone Fire Review
by Charles Spano