Bleeding Heart Graffiti

1	Bleeding Heart Graffiti 0:42
2	Christmas Lights 5:13
3	Kiss Me 'Til It Bleeds 4:09
4	Suffragette 3:37
5	This Was the Year 0:32
6	Don't Let Me Down 4:14
7	Pure 4:29
8	Watercolors 3:25
9	Superstar 3:15
10	Turn on Your Radio 4:05
11	When You Don't Want Me Anymore 4:03
12	Bones and a Name 4:55
13	The Time Comes 4:19
14	The Crickets Sound Like Sleigh Bells 0:37

Barnes & Noble

The first phrase that comes to mind when hearing this, the second album from onetime Veruca Salt member Nina Gordon, might be "Gee, we really aren't in Kansas anymore." Bleeding Heart Graffiti isn't a complete rejection of Gordon's past musical life -- it's not, for instance, nearly as radical a transformation as Liz Phair's -- but it does find her motoring down a considerably smoother path. Such scenery suits Gordon's honeyed voice mighty well, particularly the ethereal "Suffragette," which builds, slowly but surely, into a wall-of-sound pop juggernaut. While many of the tunes are sunnily spun, those structures can't hide the fact that Gordon's still got a knack for incisive lyric writing -- as borne out by "Turn On Your Radio," a sonic kiss-off with a surprisingly sweet aftertaste. There's a similar ambiance in "Bones and a Name," a twangy offering that flips off an ex while recounting daydreams of Ryan Adams. She's learned a thing or two about turning down the volume as well: Some of Bleeding Heart Graffiti's best tracks are stripped-down plaints that nod toward late-'70s California rock without outright cloning the sound. The best of those, "Pure," has an agreeably hazy vibe that's accentuated by spare piano/guitar backing that gives ample room for Gordon's emotive voice to bleed through. David Sprague

All Music Guide

Give Nina Gordon credit for this: as her former bandmate Louise Post entrenches Veruca Salt in the sound and styles of the mid-'90s on their 2006 effort IV, Gordon enthusiastically embraces maturity with her second solo album, Bleeding Heart Graffiti, an eminently tasteful collection of adult pop that's not just an album, but a song cycle tracing the breakup of a relationship. Gordon may be following the pattern that Liz Phair wrote when she made the leap from indie rock to Gap ads, but Gordon is so tasteful she bypasses the garish mall pop of Phair's Neptunes' productions and goes straight for the pop of Somebody's Miracle. Bleeding Heart Graffiti has more ambition than Somebody's Miracle, however -- for one, Gordon is hungrier than Phair, itching for a little bit of her reputation or exposure, so she's written a tighter album, and her performances are infused with a sense of purpose. The record is mannered and tasteful, although the songs aren't bad and Gordon is earnest enough. Stephen Thomas Erlewine