| It is, in a sense, a trick of the times that Lost in Space conveys such 
        a vivid visual quality; thanks to the high profile given to her music 
        on the Magnolia soundtrack, it's now impossible to miss the narrative 
        strength of Mann's writing. The mood throughout this album is autumnal, 
        with filmy keyboard beds and expressive shifts between major and minor 
        enhancing the subdued eloquence of her lyrics. (A major chord at the end 
        of "Guys Like Me offers an ironic twist on the smug portraiture that 
        precedes it.) Though recorded free of the legal snarls that plagued most 
        of her previous albums, Lost in Space seems to be mainly about alienation 
        and, at least as a metaphor, addiction. The latter point is made clear 
        in "This Is How It Goes," with its assertions that "it's 
        all about drugs, it's all about shame." But it's clear as well when 
        Mann offers to "be your heroine" -- or is it heroin? -- amidst 
        slithering slide guitars and rainy gray textures on "High on Sunday 
        51," or confesses to seeking salvation where "It's Not." 
        Recorded largely in Ryan Freeland's home studio, some of these songs receive 
        discreet electronic treatments -- moments of abstract noise whose application 
        always enhances the otherwise low-tech arrangements. For all the shadows 
        that stretch across Lost in Space, what lingers in the wake of this music 
        is the realization that Mann remains spectacularly underrated among contemporary 
        songwriters; no one surpasses her as a master of poetic regret, and few 
        albums examine the peculiar beauty of depression with the skill she brings 
        to Lost in Space.  (by Robert L. Doerschuk, All 
        Music Guide) |