There’s no denying the basic fact of Joan Wasser’s singer-songwriterhood: Wasser sings songs that she writes, and if you see her perform, there’s a good chance she’ll play the piano, an instrument bested only by the acoustic guitar in the singer-songwriter’s arsenal. Yet as befits a woman who previously built a healthy career as a session violinist (following her stint in the Boston alt-rock combo the Dambuilders), Wasser’s work under the Joan as Police Woman name rejects much of what we associate with singer-songwriter music—namely, the kind of structural and lyrical concision that allows Person A to tell a coherent story to Person B so that B nods and says, “Yes, I know exactly what you mean.”
On To Survive, her second disc as Police Woman, Wasser spends far more time tending to atmosphere than to plot; the songs unravel slowly, with Wasser crooning seductively over sumptuous avant-cabaret arrangements long on horns, keyboards and harmony vocals (by David Sylvian, Nathan Larson and Rufus Wainwright). Wasser’s theme is desire and its repercussions, but as with her serpentine melodies, there’s no clear narrative to latch onto—“This is the one I will try to be lonely with” is her beguiling idea of a romantic confession. None of this mystery detracts from To Survive’s beauty; indeed, the album’s complexities are what lift it above records by Wasser’s more conventionally minded peers.