Harmonium (Vanessa Carlton Album) - Critical Reception

Critical Reception

Harmonium received mixed to positive reviews from critics. Slant Magazine stated, "From the rollicking piano arpeggios to the classically-influenced melodies, it's impossible not to invoke Tori Amos when discussing Carlton's songwriting, particularly in the last stretch of the album. And where Amos loses herself in abstract loopiness, Carlton often gets caught up in pretty but ambiguous metaphors (see the dreamlike imagery of unicorns and vampires in "Half A Week Before The Winter" and the "dandelions blowing in the wind" of the orchestral "She Floats"). But it just so happens that these are some of the most musically interesting songs on the album, the latter climaxing with a spectacular choir of voices and screams that wouldn't sound out of place on Björk's Medúlla. And while there may not be as many immediate hooks as there were on her debut, she does deliver a bit of pop perfection on the stylish "Afterglow" and the slick "Private Radio," which unleashes one soaring hook after another. It's intelligent ear candy for those who don't mind a sugar rush." Elysa Gardner of USA Today also praised the album, commenting, "Carlton's second CD is that rare coming-of-age project that feels neither corny nor calculated. Enlisting Third Eye Blind frontman Stephan Jenkins as producer and sometime co-writer, the 24-year-old unveils songs that seem sharper and more intimate than those on her debut, yet still retain sweetness. The single, White Houses, and Who's to Say capture the dewy wonder and confusion of young love, while Private Radio and Half a Week Before the Winter reject navel-gazing in favor of a crisply moody intensity. Few artists of Carlton's generation could make growing pains sound this convincing or endearing." Steven Erlewine from Allmusic also gave the album a good review, stating "Carlton's songs often read like diary entries, dealing with familiar adolescent themes as love and longing, and they sound even smaller when delivered in her thin but appealing girlish voice, but they gain stature when married to their cinematic arrangements, driven by her insistent, circular piano and dressed by light layers of strings, guitars, and vocal overdubs. Where her debut, Be Not Nobody, could sound endearingly awkward, Harmonium is confident and somber, a conscious attempt to be serious and mature that nevertheless still sounds adolescent, largely due to her earnest lyrics and overly ambitious music. Carlton seems to equate seriousness with a lack of hooks, either in the music or the production, so there's nothing as immediate or memorable as "A Thousand Miles," which means there's nothing to lead a listener into the world she sketches on the album—only those already won over by the entirety of her debut will have the patience to dig deeply into this insular album. That's not to say that this is a difficult album, or even a challenging one—it's merely a transitional one, with some good ideas and some good songs that don't quite gel as a full record, even if Jenkins gives the album a cohesive sound. Ultimately, Carlton is so intent on being serious, so intent on crafting her songs and sound, that she winds up with an album that's admirable but for its intent, but not its achievement."

However, many critics had mixed feelings about the album. Stylus Magazine reviewed the album, saying "The first half of the record is primarily a happy ordeal. “Annie”, a song about a fan dying of an unnamed disease, even reaches ecstatic moments via its energetic backing track of Carlton’s Glassian circular piano loops and verses that reveals that, yes, indeed Stephen Jenkins (Third Eye Blind, boyfriend) is the co-producer of this record. By which it’s meant to say that they plod in a very enjoyable way. The clincher of this side of the record, however, is “San Francisco” which sees Carlton revealing that she’s attained her “utopia” and that it’s a “we’re” instead of “I’m” that’s back in the city. Even the saddest moment, musically, on the first side reveals Carlton as finally “free” to do as she pleases, with the “wind at her back”. It’s on this second side, where things get interesting, that the major problem with the album begins to cut into the enjoyment of the disc however. Carlton’s lyrics, as noted above, tend to veer towards the diary entry style that has come to define many of her contemporaries. Unfortunately, this doesn’t help in cases where less is more—as on the aforementioned “Papa” and “The Wreckage”. It’s only when Carlton wordlessly moans in “The Wreckage” that the horror of which she speaks comes out. Needless to say, the last verse is an extraneous recapitulation, which could have been better served as a fade-out."