On her debut album, Massachusetts native
Casey Dienel spells
Nellie McKay for a bit while the other brash young blonde piano player works through her record-label difficulties.
Dienel isn't entirely
McKay redux: the Broadway and hip-hop influences are missing on Wind-Up Canary,
Dienel's piano playing sounds a little more boogie-woogie than cocktail jazzy, and her pre-rock vocal idol is more likely to be
Edith Piaf than
Doris Day. Still,
Dienel's cutting lyrics about rueful love affairs ("Baby James," the Boston-specific townie romance "Frankie and Annette") and bizarre character studies (the album-opening "Doctor Monroe," a goofily surreal story about a drunk on a train) will feel comfortably familiar to
McKay fans, and there's an undeniable vocal similarity on songs like the somewhat melancholy "Cabin Fever." To her credit,
Dienel has a sparkling personality all her own, giving Wind-Up Canary a dry, mordant wit that's much less clever-clever than
McKay's sometimes exhausting precociousness, and she's an impressively strong melodicist. Like
McKay,
Sarah Sharp and Sylvie Lewis -- even
Dienel's Boston buddy
Amanda Palmer of
Dresden Dolls, to some extent, and yes, also
Norah Jones --
Casey Dienel has updated the tradition of wide-ranging, jazz-influenced female singer/songwriters that's largely lain fallow since the heydays of
Laura Nyro and
Joni Mitchell, and Wind-Up Canary is a compelling, highly enjoyable debut. ~ Stewart Mason