Barnes & Noble
Carrying on the Wainwright family name isn't quite the burden of a Dylan or a Lennon kid, but it's daunting enough that Martha (daughter of Loudon and Kate McGarrigle, sister of Rufus) took a good long time before letting loose her debut recording. The self-titled disc is most assuredly worth the wait, both for her fetching vocals (put to best use on the country-tinged "Factory") and her unsparing lyrical bent. The latter element permeates most of the disc's tunes, whether Wainwright is taking stabs at other folks -- gleefully bashing the naysayers on "Who Was I Kidding?" -- or at herself, as evidenced by the remarkably self-aware "TV Show." Although Rufus makes a cameo appearance on the lovely, loopy "Maker," she doesn't shy away from familial jabs -- in fact, "B.M.F.A." (an acronym obscene enough that only the "B" for "bloody" can be translated here) is joyfully delivered in dedication to dear old Dad. Clearly, Martha Wainwright isn't made of sugar and spice and everything nice, but in keeping with her brood's knack for turning convention on its head, that's what makes her debut album such a blast. David Sprague
All Music Guide
After teasing listeners with the enigmatic Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole EP earlier in the year, singer/songwriter Martha Wainwright comes clean with a lush, eponymous debut that should secure herself a place as one of the genre's finest young practitioners. BMFA, despite its headline-grabbing title, showed an artist of considerable depth and vision, attributes that she builds on tenfold with her first foray into full-length territory. Wainwright tears through words the way her mother, Kate McGarrigle, does, inserting mischievous pauses, experimenting with cadences, or sometimes just pulling the phrase out like a wad of taffy, while all of the while in complete control of the overall narrative. On the gorgeous opener, "Far Away," she waxes nostalgic for old friends and lovers. Backed by swirling guitars and piano she pines "I have no children/I have no husband/I have no reason to be alive/Oh give me one" without seeming the least bit ruined -- a poetic knack that she uses effectively throughout the record's entirety. It's a brave and delicate way to begin, and it engages the listener immediately with its subtle balance of voyeurism and wistfulness. "G.P.T." and "Factory" pick up the pace a bit, showcasing Wainwright's deft melodicism and mischievous nature -- the latter is in full effect on the raunchy "Ball & Chain" -- and "Don't Forget" and "These Flowers," two achingly beautiful ballads that bring to mind early Joni Mitchell, round out a first half that's awfully hard to top. Despite a couple of questionable midtempo offerings, Wainwright manages to keep the quality high, with a lovely duet with brother Rufus ("The Maker") and the aforementioned "BMFA," which is far more bold and beautiful than the title suggests, before closing with an intimate and affecting rendition of Vaughan Williams' "Whither Must I Wander." Wainwright's got all of the familial genes that make a child of music destined for success, but it's her fierce nature -- whether saucy and confident or just plain wrecked -- that makes every twist and turn of this impressive debut so easy to fall in love with. Reverend Lee Power
Rolling Stone
1/2
If you think Rufus Wainwright possesses an uncommonly expressive voice, check out his sister. Barry Walters