I feel a very strong urge to give Leigh Nash a big hug right about now.

You see, it's been a rough couple of years for the girl with the unique, lilting voice who first made a name for herself as the lead singer of Sixpence None the Richer. Things seemed to be coming up roses when she cut a charming little solo album called Blue on Blue in 2006, and was set to tour with Christian rock heavy-hitters Jars of Clay later that year. Then, mysteriously, she pulled out of the tour, and thought not a clue was publicly given as to what might have caused the change of heart, I intuited from past experience with artists such as Something Like Silas, Over the Rhine, and Kevin Max, who had previously put entire tours on hold, that there might be some sort of family/marital problem that needed to be dealt with. I didn't want to go spreading rumors at the time since I didn't know anything, but I quietly hoped for the best, for Leigh's sake.

Flash forward to 2007, when I heard that Leigh had released another album already, though this time it wasn't a solo record, but a collaboration with two of the guys from Delerium. If you recognize that name, I hope it's not because you're confusing it with the Christian rock band Delirious? (though that would have been intriguing, to say the least) - Delerium is an electronica act that managed to score a few hit singles circa 2000 with the help of Sarah MacLachlan ("Silence") and Leigh Nash ("Innocente"). Having called Leigh back for a few more collaborations on individual songs since then, I guess the guys decided they liked her enough to dedicate an entire album to their cooperative efforts. This album, as well as the group comprised of Leigh, Bill Leeb, and Rhys Fuller, has been dubbed Fauxliage. It's a name which amuses my pun-loving side, and at the same time, I'm not sure it says what the band wants to say about themselves. It's a portmanteau (thanks, Wikipedia!) of the words "faux" and "foliage", so basically it means fake shrubbery. Which is just awesomely cheesy.

It wasn't until I listened to the album, with its moody, minor-key electronic compositions filled out with just enough live instrumentation (piano, acoustic guitars, and the like) to make it feel human enough to relate to, that I was prompted to find out what the heck had happened in Leigh's life that might inspire these songs, because man, there was a lot of personal pain being expressed here. She had written the odd song for Sixpence that dealt with relationship conflicts ("Easy to Ignore" and "Down and Out of Time" being the two obvious ones), but her solo album had been mostly comprised of songs expressing love and commitment, and now the material she had brought to the table for Fauxliage seemed to express regret over that commitment falling apart. Unfortunately, this reflects the real-life dissolution of her 11-year marriage to Mark Nash, which she very openly explained on her MySpace last summer, and I somehow missed it. And I'd never be one to assume that the words a songwriter chooses to commit to tape are an exact description of the way things went in real life, especially when it comes to such a personal, sensitive issue as a divorce (one has to allow a bit of artistic license, because obviously, none of us were there). But knowing what she's been through gives these songs an honest depth that a lot of other breakup songs simply don't have. Thus, I want to give Leigh a big hug and tell her it'll all be OK.

Here's the weird part. Fauxliage, as a group, seems to be an idea that exists in conflict between the beat-driven but chilled-out vibe common to less dance-oriented electronic artists, and the confessional, singer/songwriter feel that Leigh contributes. Keeping a lot of the melodies minor key mitigates this somewhat, but then you'll have the odd instrumental that completely takes you out of the mood for a good five minutes, as if it was conceived without Leigh being part of the picture at all. These moments aren't bad to listen to, but they don't stand out nearly as much, either. There's also the problem of Fauxliage only barely qualifying for "album" status, due to the presence of only nine original "songs" (if you count the two instrumentals), and then two remixes of the same song tacked onto the end. I suppose in the electronic music world, you might frequently find several remixes of the same song all on one disc, but those are usually singles or EPs. It kind of messes me up to have the album proper end so early and then have to decide which of the three versions of a particular song I prefer and which ones I'm gonna skip so that I don't get tired of hearing the same chorus over and over again.

In summary, what we've got here is an interesting musical idea, albeit one that sometimes lends itself better to being background music in a trendy West L.A. boutique circa 1995 than it does to personal identification with the artist in the here and now. The songwriting's solid enough, and the melodies and sounds coming out of your speaker are memorable enough to make this a worthwhile listen, but there's still a lot of potential here that is left untapped.

All the World
I'm having a hard time
I'm making you do the hard time too
I'm stuck in a bad way
And I'm gonna make you pay for it...
Immediately as you start the album, you're awash in synthesized chords, which form the framework for a melody that sounds a little bit off at first, as if those chords don't go together and Leigh is pulling her notes out of thin air. Give it a minute to congeal, and it turns into a beautifully sad song about a woman who is realizing how much she's made her man suffer. "I'll break you down, I'll take you down", she sings wearily, "Fill you with sadness." These words aren't uttered with vengeance, but with regret, looking back from the aftermath of a fight and seeing the damage she's caused. This is all played out over a slow, trip-hoppy sort of beat, and I have to say that it's catchy despite the odd-angled melody and the dour mood of the lyrics. There's a lovely bridge that mixes spacy keyboards with little splashes of guitar and strings, and the song finally breaks out of its hazy mood just as it's winding down, when Leigh offers a brief coda that feels like she's finally escaped he bad dream she was caught in, and she's rushing to rescue the man she damaged so badly: "I'm waking up, baby, now tell me... are you okay?"

Someday the Wind
There's an X over our names, we lost the game
There's no way to win it
Giving every drop you have won't matter much
If your heart isn't in it...
Things get a bit more upbeat here, which for this album, isn't saying too much, but we've definitely got one of the more hook-laden tracks here due to the clickety-clack of the percussion and the gurgling synths, with another moody verse leading rather quickly into a more hopeful chorus. These lyrics seem to be an admission that a relationship is failing, and can't be saved no matter how hard they try, a bit fatalistic, but there's that vague sense that there will be life beyond this painful breakup in the end. Actually, the vagueness of the chorus bugs me slightly - "Someday the wind will blow, someday the sun will show" isn't exactly an example of striking poetry. (Plus it annoys me when people use verbs like "show" that clearly need a noun following them to mean anything, just for the sake of a rhyme.) Despite the shortcomings, it's probably still one of my favorites on the album.

Draw My Life
Beautiful shadows in my mind
They're all that's left of your design
Scattered all over like the sun in our room
Crawling all over like June bugs in June...
This song has a bit more of a peaceful vibe to it, though you might not catch it at first due to the thick, heavy beat that underscores most of it. It does a wonderful job at moving from intimate reflection to a grand sense of awe - Leigh almost seems to be having an internal dialogue with God, wanting to see what He's designed her life to be, and how good things will eventually grow from her personal tragedy. She wants to get out of her own skin and see it through His eyes, if I may be so presumptuous as to interpret the chorus that way. (God isn't explicitly mentioned in the song or album, so several of the songs are more the type that you make out of them what you want.) It's almost a bit hokey, the way that this longing for perspective is stated in the lyrics, but once the bridge arrives with its sweet, rich "ooh"s and its walls of golden synthesizers colliding with the vast, dark, echoing percussion, I'm so captivated by the sound of it that it's hard to quibble with the lyrics. One thing that definitely jolts my mood at the end of the song, though, is that cheesy little synth chord that shows up to resolve the melody - I would have preferred leaving it hanging, as a tantalizing lead-in to the next song.

Let It Go
It's hard as hell tonight to sleep
To close my eyes would be admitting my defeat...
This might be the saddest song on the record (and there's a bit of competition for that title) - the minor key piano chords are so delicate and mournful that I'm half-expecting heavy guitar chords to show up and jolt me out of my stupor... and then I remember that this isn't an Evanescence record. This one seems to find Leigh reflecting on whether the love she and her husband once had was real - the chorus flat out states this doubt in a way that puts a lump in my throat: "I wonder if you wanted me like I wanted you. It's a lonely truth that I can't change you." GULP. I know what it's like to wonder that after a relationship ends, whether what the other person claimed to feel was ever real in the first place. And it's really that chorus that makes the song soar - unfortunately, once Leigh gets through it the second time around, she and the guys don't seem to have a clue where to go with it from there, settling on further repetitions of the chorus and its lead-in. It really drags down the last half of what could have been a killer standout track for the group.

Magic
Now we completely shift gears for the album's first instrumental track... which sounds like something out of a video game, circa the 16-bit era. Something with a bit of an exotic, fantasy touch to it - you know, like The Legend of Zelda, but less cartoonish. There's an interesting electronic effect that sounds like a manipulated human voice, but it's just wordless "ooh"-ing, and it doesn't sound like Leigh's voice. It's pleasant enough, and the melody and slow beat are in line with the rest of the album, but since the mood is more, well, "magical" than it is mournful, it doesn't seem to be particularly respectful of its surroundings. I don't know, maybe some listeners are gonna need the breather at this point. But I didn't.

Without You
She'll never make you a believer
I hope you're saving all your tears
You've gotta have so much to keep her
Cry a river in a hundred years...
Fauxliage is starting to remind me of some of The Echoing Green's more recent works with the dark synths that underscore a few of these tracks, particularly the ones that open this song. But then there's the organic element of a beautifully plucked acoustic guitar - you can ever hear the little squeaks of fingers on the strings - that goes against the "everything programmed but the voice" aesthetic of many of those synthpop types. This one feels like the aftermath of Leigh's admission that she needs to let go - now they're going about the business of deciding who stays and who goes, and she's somewhat bitterly asking what this guy's new flame has to offer that she can't give him - if he's not happy now, she feels he's not gonna learn to be with this mysterious other woman. (This is the part where I have to separate the artistic license taken in the song lyrics from any speculation about what might have happened in real life, because I don't want to go insinuating that Mark had an affair or anything.) Whatever it's about, it's a beautifully performed song, even if it does drag on for a tad longer than it really needs to.

Rafe
Hold on to my heart I, will take you there
Under moon and stars, I will take you where
Oceans gather, make no sound
There is love all around...
I'm totally baffled by the title here, but never mind that, we just might have found the big standout track on the album (and I think the group might agree, since it's the candidate they chose to represent by three different mixes of the song). The mood is clearly a bit more relaxed and wistful, as you can tell from the opening piano chords and the mellow call of an acoustic guitar. The beat isn't a particularly fast one, but it's a peppy one all the same, and there's a strong sense of reconciliation in Leigh's lyrics. They read like a prayer written on behalf of the person she's separated from - she's somehow beginning to let go of the bitterness and jealousy and she just wants to see again, if only to see that he's healthy and happy and putting the pieces back together. (The line, "Feel her touch you, make no sound" is interesting - almost as if she's accepted that he's now being loved by someone else, and that's OK at this point.) That simple refrain of "Can you hear this song tonight, calling out to you?" really sticks with me, and it's not just because I end up hearing it about fifteen times before the album is over. It's simply a beautiful song, and it's best presented here, in its original form.

Vibing
The title of this one should make it pretty clear that it's another instrumental excursion, and that it's more about the "vibe" than any sort of instrumental pyrotechnics. Indeed, there's a very "loungey" sort of feel to this one, with a slight "smooth jazz" touch to the synth chords, and little bits and pieces of wah-wah guitar in the background. I'd be thinking "cheesy porno soundtrack" if it weren't so darn well-mannered. As it is, it's got more of a "new age" sort of attitude to it - they're going more for ambience than for campiness. I don't dislike listening to it, but again, there's the issue of whether this is appropriate to the overall mood of the album - and it runs for over five minutes, which is a bit generous, given that it's really just one or two musical phrases being riffed on over and over.

All Alone
I am the rain on your head
I'm in your moonlit bed
I am your bastion of grace
I am the life that you saved...
The group really surprises me here by leading this one off with another rich acoustic guitar melody, which sets us up for a deliciously non-standard time signature (played by live drums! I think?) It sounds like 6/4 or something. In any event, it's good to hear electronic-oriented acts break out of 4/4 once in a while. Leigh also surprises me by singing in Spanglish on this one, which gives me strong flashbacks to the underappreciated Sixpence nugget "Puedo Escribir". There's just one Spanish line in the chorus, "Todavia quiero saber porque", which roughly translates to "I still want to know why", and the rest is in English. She's back to the sad admission that her heart is still in pain, she feels lonely, and she wishes she could just erase the guy from her memory. And this is the point where my heart just totally breaks for her, for about the third time. And this is where the album proper ends - leaving things on a tense, mournful note, which Leigh does so well, but which leads me to expect one or two more original songs to wrap things up. Instead we get...

Rafe (Gabin Remix)
You know what, as remixes go, I can't really knock this one. The group has managed to completely re-imagine the calm, breezy mood of the original version and make into something more danceable, with an "urban Latin" sort of feel, further supporting my theory that someone in the group has a major Latin fetish. It's a good "driving" through L.A. sort of song, with its fingersnaps, its persistent "Yeah, yeah, yeah" sample, and its deliciously syncopated rhythm. Oh yeah, and those horns. That's what really pushes the "Latin" thing over the top and makes it work.

Rafe (Pacha Remix)
This mix, unfortunately, doesn't work so well. It's too dry, too devoid of melodic instruments to accompany the somewhat unimaginative beat and Leigh's voice. Consequently, I often stop the album after track 10, just to go out on a high note. It eventually picks up its own mellow version of a "Latin" vibe, which becomes most pronounced during an unexpected Spanish rap break, that sounds pretty slick, but that I won't even to try and translate.

Even if none of these songs turn out to mean what I think they do, the album (or at least its non-instrumental tracks) holds together well with its reflective, sad, but ultimately healing and hopeful vibe. It's hard to say who I'd recommend it to, since it's in more of a niche genre that could be a tough sell even for hardcore Sixpence fans. But anyone who loves Leigh's voice from her work with that band or her solo project, and who doesn't mind looking for the beauty in a few downer lyrics, should definitely check this one out.

ALBUM WORTH:
All the World $1.50
Someday the Wind $1.50
Draw My Life $1.50
Let It Go $1
Magic $.50
Without You $1.50
Rafe $2
Vibing $.50
All Alone $1.50
Rafe (Gabin Remix) $1
Rafe (Pacha Remix) $.50
TOTAL: $13

Group Members:
Leigh Nash: Lead vocals
Bill Leeb & Rhys Fuller: Programming, and presumably everything else

Website: http://www.myspace.com/fauxliage

Recommended: Yes

Great Music to Play While: Reading or Studying