Barnes & Noble
The dreamy hit "Fade into You" by Hope Sandoval's former group, Mazzy Star, didn't knock you over the head; rather, it charmed with its gauzy, slide guitar-spun backdrop and Sandoval's cooing vocals. Like that mesmerizing song, Sandoval's debut solo album casts a potent spell with a narrow but effective net. Front and center is the singer's entrancing, even-toned vocals, which guide these 11 somnambulant songs through a misty haze of acoustic guitar strums, delicate percussion, and occasional sonic flourishes -- folksy harmonica (the acoustic Neil Young-ish "On the Low," the woozy "Clear Day") or tinkling bells ("Lose Me on the Way"). Her main collaborator here might surprise fans of My Bloody Valentine's glide guitar symphonies, but MBV drummer Colm O'Ciosoig reveals a softer, much folksier side here, strumming his acoustic and sharing writing duties with Sandoval. Their wispy instrumentation doesn't match the six-string oomph packed by Mazzy Star songwriter/guitarist Dave Roback, but the quiet picking suits the disc's mood. A special treat comes on "Charlotte" and "Butterfly Mornings," which feature pristine fretwork by British folk icon Bert Jansch. With its nap-time vibe and Sandoval's seductive vocals, Bavarian Fruit Bread promises many a sweet trip to la-la land. Lydia Vanderloo
All Music Guide
Hope Sandoval built up real steam fronting the darkly mysterious yet slinky slow-core swooners Mazzy Star. If Mazzy did themselves no favors playing shows in total darkness or close to it, it just seemed to add to the wee-hours shimmer of their vibey reputation. Certainly, Sandoval's unhurried, husky whisper was a major part of it. But her first solo LP, Bavarian Fruit Bread, misspends this regard. Sandoval misses the textural bedrock (and likely the tunes) provided by tight-lipped but inspired Mazzy Star mainman, guitarist David Roback. Though now Sandoval works with one of the best rock drummers of a decade ago, ex-My Bloody Valentine pounder Colm O'Ciosoig, there's hardly any drumming here, and not all that much else going on, either. The spare melodies are largely wanting, and the backing tracks are minimal but unsatisfying. So Sandoval's unhurried delivery now comes off as bored, or at least diffident, when her voice used to seem so vivid. Perhaps the title track and the effortlessly graceful "On the Low" bring back some of the old, dark, black magic. And there are touches of childlike bells, cellos and piano, alt-country electric and chamber-bare acoustic guitar, and occasional big-sigh harmonica gasps. But for the most part, the LP never really goes anywhere. It's like sitting in a cool car with the engine off and the brake pulled, a movie with no sound, a party with no guests, or the Blues Brothers' meatless "Wish Sandwich." The parts are present, but there's no there here. A lot of joyless or minimal records are actually quite compelling, striking, or peculiarly affecting. This one is just a little too stillborn to get airborne. Jack Rabid