We’re always a bit distrustful of any album that starts with an overture, just like Lissie‘s does. There’s always a sense of the grandiose and pretentious there, a setting of scene that might be best served elsewhere. My Wild West begins with that same problem – it’s opening, like its title, suggests drama on a cinematic scale, a notion that fades a bit too quickly.
Opening with Hollywood and Wild West is probably not the best decision for this album. They’re far from Lissie’s best work, plodding pieces that descend too close to overwrought balladry, lacking the punch and verve we’ve come to associate with her. It’s well over halfway through the album before there’s a discernible chart-bothering banger (Don’t You Give Up On Me, just FYI – A+ Maurus gold).
Lissie’s Wild West, it seems, is more the aftermath of a battle, a deserted landscape that sees her roaming in search of herself and remnants of the past. Unfortunately, it’s wrapped in a sort of been-there feel with the Sia school of over-emotiong, and like a knock-off Western that wraps its philosophies in staid old phrases. Hero, for example, lives up to it’s familiar title with lines like “I could have been a hero, I could have been a zero, I could have been all these things… I could have had something. I could have had nothing, I could have had all these things.” Well, quite – if Lissie had been sharper on the draw, this wouldn’t seem like such an arid wasteland.