Southern belles conjure up darker, tantalising second album.
It could be called the sophomore album syndrome – the pressure of proving that your debut wasn’t the proverbial one trick pony. Dunedin female trio Delgirl’s first outing, Two, Maybe Three, Days Ride, was a refreshing burst of South Pacific folksy bluegrass skiffle amongst the legions of hopeful young punks and rappers that dominate the debut ranks. As a follow-up, the girls decided to get-it-together-in-the-country-man by recording Porchlight with producer Nick Bollinger in the Catlins in mid-winter. The porch light metaphor may be a down home country image of refuge and reassurance ­– and sure, infectious moments like Lynn Vare’s banjo motif on the wonderful Bonny Girl, the bluesy hoot of Sipping and the south seas ambience of Honey are all irresistible Delgirl moments. But many of the album’s most powerful moods emerge from the shadows beyond lighted porches as in Deirdre Newall’s raw blues vocals on Sister Mother and Erin Morton’s evocative lone trumpet on the moving One Long Day, leaving the aching melancholy of Away as confirmation that Delgirls can do anything.