
Elizabeth Fraser is in possession of my second favorite voice in music. While first place is on lock-down with a certain Icelandic alien-fairy with whom Fraser shares so many parallels, the shear entirety of the Cocteau Twins’ catalog finds its identity in Fraser’s ethereal singing.
While both former Twins Robin Guthrie and Simon Raymonde have gone on to do other things, Fraser has essentially stayed out of the spotlight since the end of the Cocteau Twins. Her last great hurrah, the appearance on Massive Attack’s “Tear Drop,” now sits at over a decade in the past. Sadly, it has taken the death of a close friend of hers, Jake Drake-Brockman, for us to receive this new work.
Produced as a collaboration with Drake-Brockman and partner and former Bunnyman and Spiritualizer Damon Reece, the original version of “Moses” opens with Old World-style accordian before dropping into programmed drums that remind me of quite a few vanilla “trip-pop” concoctions from the earlier part of this decade. Reece’s backing accompaniment is not the star here though.
Fraser’s ability to wrap almost indecipherable lyrics in a gorgeous blanket of warmth and comfort is as finely-tuned as they were throughout the run of her former band. While we are not treated to wild swoops either high or low, her soothing coo sounds deliciously mature and confident, demonstrating she hasn’t lost a bit of touch in the years since we’ve last heard from her.
The EP is rounded out with two remixes. The first, from Welsh producer Timothy Lewis’ Thighpaulsandra project, mines the ethnic aspect of the original’s accordians and doesn’t stray very far from the tempo or rhythm structure either. Fraser’s voice is underpinned with a plucky synth cord occasionally, but still rightfully remains the star.
Former Alpha member Andy Jenks turns in the other mix under his Spaceland guise, and, like Lewis, doesn’t deviate too far from the original. Fraser is upfront and reverbed a little bit more in the mix, and this time set in front of a more organic-sounding Bond/noir-theme backing track that reminded me quite a bit of Portishead from the second album on. Not exactly my favorite era of that particular band, but Fraser is easily the prototype for a singer like the Bristolians’ Beth Gibbons, one whose voice alone can carry an otherwise unimaginative recording to praiseworthy heights.
There’s been very little information on whether this release is a one-off to honor a passed friend, or a possible hint that a long-rumored solo album might actually be materializing. While Robin Guthrie has quite masterfully continued on a very similar trajectory as the entirety of the Cocteau Twins’ catalogue, Fraser has obviously preferred to be in no rush to pick and choose her involvement in projects up to now. I can only hope this release encourages further projects to materialize that might have a more updated feel than this one ultimately left me with. There’s no arguing with the beauty of that voice; now I’d like to see it wrapped in something as imaginative and luxurious.
The release can be purchased either on 12″ or digitally via Rough Trade and the Guardian UKĀ features Fraser’s first interview in a decade on their site.
