When actress Zooey Deschanel and singer-songwriter M. Ward worked two years ago on the film "The Go-Getter" (2007), an indie film about a young man's soul-searching journey, not much more than they were met with glowing reviews at Sundance. But when Deschanel, who starred, and Ward, who wrote the score, collaborated on a song for the movie's soundtrack, they planted the seed for a promising side project. Deschanel and Ward harmonized on Richard and Linda Thompson's "When I Get to the Border," and she eventually confided to him that she was a closeted songstress who secretly recorded original compositions on her computer. They parted after the brief movie collaboration, but Deschanel sent Ward a demo that impressed him so much he invited her to his Portland, Ore. studio, and the duo "She and Him" was born.
The 13 tracks resulting from the pair's two subsequent recording sessions - during which Deschanel sang while Ward played guitar, arranged and produced - hearken back to the AM radio of western Texas in the 1960s. The LP, "Volume One," stays relevant, though, with an indie-rock edge built on Ward's acoustic guitar sound and an occasionally Spectorian wall of sound that weaves in and out. But the uncanny allure of She & Him lies mostly in the She. Deschanel's voice is a sassy but vulnerable blend of Loretta Lynn and Linda Ronstadt, a full-bodied force delivering lyrics that take on romance from all angles.
The opening track of "Volume One," "Sentimental Heart," begins with only piano chords under Deschanel's voice, a sad Southern syrup that's pouty and lamenting. "Cried all night 'til there was nothing more/ What use am I as a heap on the floor?" she asks. An arrangement of staccato violins falls in above the piano as she enters the chorus: "Oh, old habits die hard when you got/ When you got a sentimental heart," she sings with woe-is-me na'veté.
The second verse glides in, and as the song moves into another chorus, a three-voice choir of Deschanel overdubs fortifies the lead vocals with sighing harmonies. Then, just as you thought the sweet track was fading out, a full-on wall of drums, bass, strings and vocal harmonies hoists the song to a gratifying new plane as it soars to a finish.
This brew of thick vocal sections and string arrangements comes together - often with a pedal steel guitar as well - to beef up almost every track. The only problem is that after a few listens, one realizes that they sound on top of the tunes more than a part of them, and the result is bubblegummy. The album's last official song, "Sweet Darlin'," is icing on the saccharine cake; the powerful, up-tempo shuffler is laden with strings, vocal interplay and a thumping drum beat that falls hard on every quarter note.
But when Ward's production goes a bit overboard, Deschanel's striking talent and presentation are there to deliver it. She takes a crack at all the facets of love and sex over the course of "Volume One." Her light Southwestern flair is equally compelling whether she is coaxing a man in the less-than-coy "Why Do You Let Me Stay Here?," bemoaning a loss in the Joni Mitchell-tinged "Change Is Hard" or fending off a suitor in the fragile "Take It Back."
Once again, though, there is a snag. In perhaps the album's most serious flaw, Deschanel's day job becomes a bit too evident. With each successive listen to "Volume One," the trance in which the actress's charm leaves us grows increasingly tenuous. Perhaps her gameness to speak from a different romantic perspective in every song should tip us off to a disconnect between the songs and the songwriter.
Each song on "Volume One" is quick and to the point, and, frustratingly, not one track hits the four-minute mark. Ward's solo recordings are often similarly brief, but, backed by rustic instrumentations, they offer pithy melodies that get their messages across quickly and never overstay their welcomes. On "Volume One," the listener may wish Deschanel would stick around for another verse or two, maybe even throw in a bridge or a solo section (two things usually absent from Ward's repertoire). Developing more musical ideas would alleviate the superficiality that the album ultimately puts forth.
Deschanel has said that she always makes sure her next acting role is different from the part she played in her last film. But hopefully on the duo's "Volume Two," we will see her concentrate more on one or two emotions with which she has had a serious personal battle. Her poeticism and vocal gifts are too great to waste on underdeveloped themes.
