Beth Hart: Screamin' For My Supper : Music Reviews : Rolling Stone

Album Reviews

In a pop market this overcrowded with angsty females, you can't just scream to be heard -- you have to yowl, grate, seethe, curse and rampage until it sounds like your eyes are popping out of your head, your ratty hair is standing on end and your piano is about to collapse. On her second album, L.A. singer-songwriter Beth Hart really piles it on. Constantly pushing her voice into a Janis Joplin screech, she lashes out at lovers who've done her wrong, swears she's going to dump whatever town she's in and mourns whatever beauty isn't left in her. Sometimes it's just little old ladies who tick her off: "Silver-blue hair and a cane in her hand/Living to die in the promised land," she hisses in "G.O.P.," which stands for "good ole people." The production, mostly by Hart with bassist Tal Herzberg, is an overwrought mix of lite metal and roots rock; even the normally trusty keyboardist Benmont Tench adds nothing inspired. Hart's anger seems sincere enough, but somewhere along the way she took a detour into hackdom. She's just another bitch in the crowd. (RS 819)

KAREN SCHOEMER