Wild Strawberries

Quiver (Nettwerk)
by Katy Shea

Introspective ambient pop, Wild Strawberries give us a little of Sarah McLachlan’s style-stumbling, though the ecstasy is a little less ethereal and more riddled with self-doubt and self-consciously assertive cynicism. Effects-laden guitar stylings and airy, pleading vocals place us amidst the confusion and processed anger that is Quiver. There are instances where it works and there is a universe of mystical sound and thought embodied on the CD, but there are more instances where the melodies are just not strong enough to provide any more than a rambling monologue to accompany the often uninspired wash of under-orchestrated sound that fails to support Roberta Carter Harrison’s ingenue vocals.

When veering away from the ambient and into more straight ahead pop, the result is akin to your parakeet smacking into the sliding glass door because he/she thinks it’s open. They can see outside, but they don’t realize this method will not get them there. The vocals and the rhythm at times are as incongruous and disturbing as Charles Bukowski and Judy Bloom collaborating on a coming of age book. A sometimes intriguing, often frustrating listen, Wild Strawberries’ Quiver hardly elicits a flinch.