Sometime back around 1999 a friend of mine introduced me to singer/songwriter Veda Hille and I instantly fell in love. With lyrics that incorporated the poetry of E.E. Cummings and the journal writings of painter Emily Carr, I felt I had found a kindred spirit in the romanticized world of my mind.
Years later, into my hands falls the latest album by another singer/songwriter, Ida Nilsen. Unknown to me, I was most intrigued to find Veda Hille’s name in the credit lines. Immediately into my battered discman it went, and before I knew it I was falling in love all over again. They call this a pop album but I refuse to believe it. With such subtlety are you drawn in, with such intimacy, this can only be the masterpiece of an independent folk singer of vintage proportions. Minus the trumpet, bass, electric guitar and horn lines, that is. The instruments are in religious harmony, the sound is deep and smooth, the recording is far from overbearing. And then comes Ida’s voice; soft, simple, sensual. Listening to these tracks is like being Ida’s best friend-- standing on the inside of closed bedroom doors, sharing in the experience of lost love, being privy to the most private of lovers’ quandaries, being present at the offering of heartfelt advice:
careful kid it’s time you can tell by how they fly
no regrets of mine
were made while you were by my side
Understandably, the idea of yet another love song is not likely to get you running out the door to your nearest music store…and here we have twelve tracks worth…but hear me when I tell you that this album will make you feel loved, will make you fall in love, will make you love yourself, will make you love all the people you ever did love but no longer do. Whoever first said that music is therapy must have been a fan of Great Aunt Ida.
