After spending much of the 1980s behind the scenes as a songwriter, as well as establishing herself as a teacher of repute, Schock returned to recording, first with American Romance, and then, even more triumphantly, with Rosebud. The album is produced by the legendary, late Nik Venet - most celebrated for his work with The Beach Boys, as well as singer/songwriter Dory Previn - and the sound is suitably mid-tempo, spare and uncrowded, with the singer and the songs very much at the forefront. Sympathetic accompaniment is provided by a handful of guitarists, a small string section and two pianists, and the feel is a marriage of folk and adult pop, with the melodic values of a stage musical. The ultimate victory, though, is very much Shock's own - if her songwriting was always solidly reliable, here it simply excels itself.
Rosebud is, loosely, a concept album, drawing inspiration from classic cinema. The title track takes its cue from Citizen Kane, and finds Schock examining the 'rosebud' in her own life - not, in her case, a sled, but her father. Elsewhere are references to Casablanca, Marlene Dietrich, and other icons of film. However, this doesn't mean that Rosebud is a self-indulgent wallow in nostalgia - the music tingles with quiet vigour and freshness, and Schock is never imprisoned by the album's concept, straying from it as often as she adheres to it. What makes Schock such a compelling songwriter is her ability to look beyond herself (a rare gift in the singer/songwriter genre), resulting in touching, observational pieces like "Over and Over and Over" - written about the elderly couple that reside above Schock's apartment.
The trademark wry humour that characterises much of Schock's writing is still present, but never as glaringly signposted as before. Check out some of the acidic kiss-off lines in "Okay, you win, I Give Up, You're Right, I'm Gone": "Your blood was blue/ Your shoes were grey/ But your feet were one hundred per cent pure clay". There's more where that came from, too: "Day by day you pontificate/ On all the people you've come to hate/ And here I'm sitting at three a.m/ Aware at last that I'm one of them". Add to this Schock's earthy, expressive singing, and you have what surely ranks as one of the most important, impressive albums of the decade. Those still not won over will find it even harder to resist the closing "You Are" - a testament to the supremacy of love over the pettiness that sometimes threatens to destroy it, rendered with breathtaking sensitivity and tenderness.
© Charles Donovan /TiVo