mono.net: Stage & D-Day
by Richard Vogt
mono.net
Although given to the disturbing tendency of such rhyming couplets as 'sanity' and 'reality', it doesn't take much listening to Deborah Hocking in order to realise why she has spent a lot of 2001 being praised by various folk communities.
Lengthy and literate songs that touch upon the whimsical as much as they dig beneath the skin of twenty-something anxiety, these are what you'll find on her twin releases D-Day and Stage.
Stage is the more fully realised. An EP that includes a couple of songs on its acoustic companion, it explains to us that Hocking has potential beyond her busking roots. It's not too hard to strum a few chords if you have a strong voice (which she does). But to then turn them into songs that don't bore the shit out of you on the second listen is not so easy as it seems.
Her past experiences in Melbourne bands have obviously given her an ear for composition. The lengthier D-Day (released prior to the EP, I believe) demands more from the listener. The subjects in the songs come to the fore and after a while it's hard not to want something a little lighter on the menu. Perhaps we could apply a term like gothic folk; the Victorian twist to the lyrics, the obsession with struggles and desires at blood level. Whether or not Hocking fears or despises frivolity and wit is hard for me to say. The title of the album may give it away.
Working in a record shop, one brim full of Sum 41, Dr Dre, Nelly, every single Ministry of Sound compilation known to mankind, and Limp Bizkit, it is hard to adjust to the back porch charm of Deborah Hocking. Her world is almost entirely divorced from modern music. It's some kind of retreat.
After listening to her acoustic effort -- which I find braver than the compromise of a full band on Stage -- few times in a row, it made a lot more sense. That level of transportation is necessary before you're likely to appreciate what is lurking in the deceptively simple melodies. If you've recently found yourself plundering your parents' record collection for those golden oldies, then you know what I mean.