There's always another sparkling female vocalist on the rise, and today we meet Lizzie Davis, a girl raised not more than a few interstate exits from dear Dorothy Gale. My press release math says Ms. Davis is just barely old enough to vote, and her striking voice flies from my laptop speakers with the solid professionalism of a Martha Davis or an early Chrissie Hynde. She's even a bit of a one-woman band; credits list her as singer, guitarist, and keyboard player. I hear a bit of uncredited backing percussion, but this album is clearly her dog and pony show.
"Moon Song" is a dreamy tropical ballad, but even as your senses drift toward plumeria and grass skirts, your front brain stays focused on that smooth contralto. A bit of indie pop guitar opens "Latitudes," which counts as the love song with a walk in the gentle snowfall with a lover and that sense of "can this be real? Can it last until tomorrow?" Mayyyyybeeee... "Geography" is a bit a darker -- the theme here is lost childhood, and for those of us old and cynical enough to honestly have forgotten it... well, the thought is cute as a bug and there's even an attempt to slide back into a reverie that I certainly haven't experienced in a long time. There's even a breakup song set in the mountains: "Don't Wait Up."
For an 18 year old, she seems to have been around the block as often as any middle aged torch singer. There's a lot going on here, and all of it positive. Her wide-ranging songs have heart, her clear-burning vocals and dreamy execution demand that she sport purple hair and favor vintage Victorian wedding dresses along with a Hello Kitty tattoo. Please don't spoil my imagination if any of that is wrong.