A Bridge Connecting Bygone Sounds with the Alternative Ones of Today
Joan Wasser, who goes by the stage name Joan As Police Woman, recently released the album Lemons, Limes and Orchids. But this singer-songwriter isn’t new to the scene. No, she’s been in a spotlight of her own ever since 2007, beginning with Real Life. She’s been working with [PIAS], a prominent Belgian record label, for most of her career.
Joan As Police Woman’s latest album is made up of this perfect blend between all things groovy and jazzy as if she’s the priest who married the two. Her educational background has prepared her well for the work she’s done here. Having gone to Boston University to study music, she once played as part of the school’s symphony orchestra, which helped to familiarize her with classical music, among other things. Yet back when she launched her career, she knew she didn’t want to attach her musical talents to such an aged medium. Luckily for her fans, punk bands called her name at the right time in her young life. By this point in time, she’s become well-versed when it comes to bridging the gap between what’s considered old and all that’s new.
“The Dream” does an exceptional job of establishing Joan As Police Woman’s intentions with her release of Lemons, Limes, and Orchids. The artist here is living through a dream, using a stretched-out vocal delivery to assist herself in loading up for something more. Hi-hats become her close friend on this one, and the song’s producer seemingly masters the complexities of the keyboard for the distribution of sounds that ultimately make this track fitting for both a boring elevator ride and an ocean-bound voyage. There’s guessing, wailing, and a worried voice singing and the outro hums something entirely its own in service of a conclusion containing promises that lead to more promising things on the forty-eight-minute road ahead of listeners.
The heart of Lemons, Limes, and Orchids is what prevents them from falling apart. Joan As Police Woman delivers with prowess, and her decision to include “Full-Time Heist,” “Back Again,” and “With Hope In My Breath” this time around is hopefully seen as a blessing by most—a wise choice, definitely, especially considering how these three play off one another spectacularly. The first aforementioned track is enhanced with this splash of Lauryn Hill’s influence, as well as, it could be argued, Mary J. Blige’s whispers. It’s an aging classic already on its way to racking up years. The famous “fee-fi-fo-fum” anthem of giants is played here, so it’s clear that Joan As Police Woman has welcomed child’s play, and she’s employed the assistance of timeless nursery rhymes. Something’s evinced, and it wouldn’t be a shock if listeners heard this one and, as a result, began to think of images of groups of angels singing softly in heavenly gardens simultaneously blooming and burning with fiery flowers.
Continuing with “Back Again,” Joan As Police Woman created something catchy, something capable of having space saved for it on radio stations playing the newest pop. It’s the perfect love ballad for the brokenhearted. One might already be able to imagine its music video, even upon first listen, because of how deeply one can feel the raw intensity of its elaborate emotions. This track, besides belonging to poetry lounges, helps to solidify how Lemons, Limes, and Orchids produce a collection of songs strikingly different from one another. None sound like the one preceding it, and vice versa. There’s good progression present.
Finishing telling of this trinity by explaining “With Hope In My Breath,” this member is breathtaking and is meant to be played as one calmly floats over the clouds, however, that might look for them. It’s got that sunset sound, that end-of-sappy-movie feel, and it’s certainly dramatic, hard-hitting, and perhaps for the theatre. “Long For Ruin” follows with fire, with its angelic chorus and the inclusion of an organ strengthening the song’s most crucial organs, metaphorically speaking.
Guitars roar wildly on the track that shares its name with the title of the album—in that someone, actually, the overall production shifts and transforms continuously. And while two tracks here might be rather forgettable and insignificant, namely, “Started Off Free” and “Safe To Say,” Joan As Police Woman rounds it all up nicely by including “Help Is On Its Way” at the end of everything. Maybe she’s saying she’s the help on its way, collaborating with simple and soft piano sounds to sell this effect. The ending, then, to it all is organic. Listeners might feel they’ve found something in Lemons, Limes, and Orchids, no matter if it is something within or without themselves. But this album’s creator beats everyone to it; she even admits to doing so on “Remember the Voice,” singing, “I found it in you.” It’d truly be useful to remember the voice, in that case.
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