Marla Mase is one of those eclectic artists that dabbles across multiple kinds of media and this dilettantish approach is evident on the deluxe version of her 2011 record Speak.
From the beginning it’s clear that she wants to be Patti Smith. The album offers a diverse blend of socially minded spoken word, bluesy balladry, and New York garage.
The versatile backing band, led by Tomás Doncker, are as equally adept at Afrobeat and reggae rhythms as they are at garage rock. (See “She Hooked Him Up” for some Talking Heads agit-funk.)
Despite her billing as a writer/poet however, Mase struggles lyrically. “Piece Of Peace”, for example, falls back on tired metaphors of flowers blooming and the insipid punning of the title (a phrase that did work when Michael Franti rapped it).
She also tends too often towards the preachy. The weirdly reggae “AnnaRexia” campaigns for awareness with lines like: “The world is topsy-turvy / When our girls don’t like their curvy”.
“Lioness” sees her literally roaring for female empowerment. But rather than the cathartic expulsions of, say, Lennon’s primal screaming, Mase sounds more like she’s voicing a cartoon.
“Blog” comically (although one suspects it’s not a joke) documents the travails of the online writer: “I am one big blog floating around the universe full of words thoughts and ideas.” And the clumsy conceit of “New Cell Phone” attempts to imbue a trivial act with a life changing significance.
Speak’s vocal work is expressionless, without personality or intensity; lyrically the album ranges from clichéd to downright cringeworthy; and the tracks seem more focused on campaigning than drawing in listeners. Mase might appeal to a few cause-hungry new-ageists, but few others will be convinced.
