Maria Taylor

With Bright Eyes and Cursive as the two most prominent artists on its roster, the Omaha, Nebraska label Saddle Creek is more often known for its angsty males and imperfect melodies. But unbeknownst to many, there is a gentle female presence, albeit a modest one. Maria Taylor, one-half of the haunting songwriting pair Azure Ray (both the duo's recordings and the other member Orenda Fink's solo output are also signed to the label), is part of the softer side of Saddle Creek.

On her second solo album, Lynn Teeter Flower, Taylor delivers a record that is undeniably pleasant, which is a mixed blessing. Her songs come staggeringly close to the ethereal folk-pop of Sarah McLachlan—a comparison that might well disappoint Taylor herself as it seems dubious she's aiming for such a categorization, nor does the album have the commercial appeal to succeed on those terms. A song like "A Good Start," for example, begins with Taylor's light vocals but a flat refrain prevents the song from ever really picking up.

While Taylor's songwriting potential is clear, her choruses lack memorability, rendering the music on Lynn almost frustratingly fleeting. Even the Conor Oberst co-written "The Ballad of Shawn Foley" lacks the bright-eyed urgency usually found in his compositions. Hopefully, with time, Taylor will learn that delicate doesn't have to be synonymous with forgettable. For now, we'll have to await something with more bite to domesticate the Saddle Creek bachelor pad.

- Arye Dworken
03.09.07

The words "Lynn Teeter Flower" won't mean much to anyone who wasn't a part of Maria Taylor's formative years in Birmingham, AL, but they have a way of imparting a sense of what the artist's sophomore disc sounds like -- pretty, charmingly off-kilter, this side of eccentric. Unlike 11:11, Taylor's great debut disc, Lynn Teeter Flower, named for a onetime family friend, follows its own carefully considered path. Where the first album leaned hard on the jittery Bright Eyes sound, the second charts a course through sparer but still pillowy sounding territory. In ten songs (the eleventh is more a late-coming interlude than a song -- it unspools a child's sing-songy tribute to "Lynn Flower"), Taylor lays out tales of sadness, self-doubt and elusive love that seem hand-dunked in humanity -- see "My Own Fault" and "Smile and Wave" for the best examples. Throughout, a cutback on shimmery electronic effects results in a lived-in sound; there's a shabby chic-ness to these songs, and also a believability. Taylor's voice is part Elizabeth Mitchell and part Sarah McLachlan, minus the syrup. Like the name "Lynn Teeter Flower," it issues from somewhere plain and true and captivates fully. ~ Tammy La Gorce, All Music Guide