The Underground of Happiness

This is an album that has got a lot of love from the music press lately and there’s plenty to love about it. I think it might be a bit of an acquired taste though for the general listening public. And it’d be a pity if it didn’t stick with people because its charms tend to grow and grow once they take hold. The main feature of the album that might take some acquiring is Prass’ voice. It’s an up close, late night instrument, not much above a whisper, mostly in a high register. To say the very least it’s intimate - as befits songs addressed to and about lovers and dealing with emotional turmoil - delicate, fragile even, certainly vulnerable. You might even go so far as to say self-doubting. Suffice to say it does not have the belt it out confidence seemingly beloved of audiences these days. There’s also a kink in her delivery, a sharp intake of breath just before the start of a line, which, given she is generally very close to the mike, becomes amplified beyond mere background ...