Nina Gordon
Bleeding Heart Graffiti
(Warner Bros.)
First Appeared in The Music Box, January 2007, Volume 14, #1
Written by John Metzger
Within the context of Veruca Salt, Nina Gordon added a much needed dose of
pop-oriented sweetness to Louise Post’s punk-metal abrasiveness. Since the duo’s
volatile breakup, Gordon, not surprisingly, has continued to pursue her
mainstream aspirations, while Post, who retained the band’s name, has become
even more bilious. On her latest effort Bleeding Heart Graffiti, Gordon
brings forth the mature and sharply focused perspective that was missing from
her early endeavors. Her songs, which are stuffed with shimmering,
radio-friendly melodies, come together to form a conceptual work that traces the
trajectory of a relationship from its beginning to its end. Despite her lofty
ambitions, however, the album isn’t nearly as captivating as it ought to be.
Although there are moments when Gordon proves that she can still raise a
ruckus — the squall of guitars that haunts the otherwise optimistic Christmas
Lights and the glittery, Mick Jagger-fronting-T-Rex groove of Suffragette,
for example — she far too frequently settles for delivering pretty but utterly
forgettable piano ballads. At its worst, the trio of tracks that are tucked into
the center of the set (Pure, Watercolors, and Superstar)
comes across, with diminishing results, as a Juliana Hatfield-meets-Rilo Kiley
rendition of The Carpenters. Gordon climbs out of the increasingly tedious
refrains by transforming Warren Zevon’s Accidentally Like a Martyr and
The Beatles’ All You Need Is Love into the bittersweet Bones and a
Name. In the end, Bleeding Heart Graffiti proves that while she might
not have lost her knack for crafting incredibly infectious material, she
seriously misses the edgy counterpunch that Post was able to provide. 
Bleeding Heart Graffiti is available from
Barnes & Noble. To order, Click Here!
Ratings
1 Star: Pitiful
2 Stars: Listenable
3 Stars: Respectable
4 Stars: Excellent
5 Stars: Can't Live Without It!!
Copyright © 2007 The Music Box