Valorie Miller
Sweeter Than Salt
Redhead Reckords
By Jud Block
If allegory's not your thing, then the emblem Valorie Miller
has chosen for herself won't affect you one way or another. But
if you're fond of a little symbolism, then the image of a redheaded
woman on one knee with a butterfly's wings as well as bladed
arms of construction equipment sprouting from her back ought
to let you know you're in for one hell of a journey. And on Sweeter
Than Salt, Valorie Miller proves the perfect paradoxical
guide.
With a voice as pure and strong as a December morning in the
mountains of Western Carolina, Valorie Miller weaves together
folk, country, swing, and a little blues into a slightly discomfiting
tapestry of guilt, regret, loss, poverty, and environmental concern.
She's a granola girl with a mean streak, an incisive intellect,
and a voice that could've made Diogenes fall in love. And did
I mention she's one hell of a stand-up bass player?
But it is the complexity of her music that is so appealing.
These are not songs to kill gray matter by; in fact, if anything,
the poetic phrasings of her words caused me to think much more
than I hope to ever find the need to again. And I've never met
Ms. Miller, but judging from her song topics, her view on life
might be considered a bit inclement to say the least. Yet there
is no denying the force of a song like "Not My Daughter,"
the lead track on Sweeter Than Salt, with its sparse acoustic
arrangement which only serves to highlight the lamentation of
a childless woman. Now, whether that is the result of an abortion
or a choice made necessary by poverty is up to the listener to
decide, but to say that it is a haunting piece is like calling
death an inconvenience.
Only a quarter, never a dollar
I never had her and she's not my daughter
I'm not her mother, there is no father
I never did love her and she's not my daughter
You'd be hard pressed to find a more pessimistic tune than
"Horrified Lullaby." It's truly amazing how sinister
an acoustic guitar and an accordion can sound; hell, I imagine
Satan would reach a hand in first and feel around for a light
switch if he heard this song emanating from a darkened room.
And if you think Julia "Butterfly" Hill is intense,
you ain't heard nothing yet.
The sunflower heads
Have all turned to black
And the milk has gone sour
In a tarpaper shack
In a puddle of mud
Drags a red velvet skirt
And a sad little boy
Drinks a big glass of dirt
The Earth has a birthmark
That covers her face
And the planets have been
Amputated in space
Cause the Milky Way suffers
From a case of gangrene
And the galaxy threatens
To split at the seams
"As the Crow Flies" is very possibly one of the
most beautifully written songs about being romantically bereft
that I've ever heard. Damn thing gives me chills every time I
hear it - - drunk or sober.
As I wander on roads
So winding
A dark wing
Catches my eye
It's the wing of the one
That I envy
For I cannot go as the crow flies
A labyrinth lies
In between us
But closer to you
I will strive
How quickly we'd be
Reunited
If I could go as the crow flies
I don't need the red bird's beauty
I don't need the sparrow's song
I don't need to see with an eagle's eye
Just let me go as the crow flies
Well, I've heard Kasey Chambers and Kathleen Edwards, but
as far as I'm concerned neither one even comes close to the poetic
mountain girl from North Carolina known as Valorie Miller. So
if you're trying to impress your aging female hippie friends
with your still relevant liberal tastes, go ahead and travel
that well-marketed road, but if you're looking for music with
intelligence, depth and heart, then Sweeter Than Salt
will make you happy as hell.
Unfortunately, Valorie does not have her own website yet,
but if you'll write her at valoriemiller-at-yahoo.com or PO Box
1183 Asheville, NC 28802, I'm sure she'd be more than happy to
help you get your own copy of any of her CDs.
Contact Jud Block at jud-at-rockzilla.net
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