‘Belle’ by Bic Runga

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Ten seconds in and it’s apparent what kind of ride Belle is going to be, Bic Runga’s neurotically sunny follow up to 2005’s Birds. Runga’s point of difference with Birds was her refusal to join ranks with the milieu of radio-friendly kiwi songstresses, whose manufacturer’s line of generic pop-hook and wannabe-endearing love themes have been  staple fare for an otherwise innovative kiwi music scene (no naming of artists from either camp . . . all one nation and that). What’s more, there was an accompanying image of Bic as velvet-refined and Joni-Mitchell-esque imbuing Miss Runga’s ‘kiwi gal’ self-presentation with a darkly textured sex appeal, a refreshing diversion from the down-to-earth innocence some New Zealand song writers try so painfully to convince their audiences (and themselves?) of.

And so it was with opening tracks “Tiny Little Piece of My Heart” and admittedly uplifting single-track “Hello Hello”, that my gut cinched disappointedly, for surely such linear fodder signalled a decline from established greatness. However, though never revisiting the silken moodiness of Birds, the rest of the album proves substantially meatier. There are some forgettable tracks, but this reviewer thinks the essence of superficially breezy songs will reveal themselves on regular revisitations.  In fact as this reviewer played it through a third and fourth time, overlooked gems unfurled like little flowers, and the wunderkind production value expected of Kody Nielson finally revealed itself as a subdued exploration of pop-sensibilities. It’s kind of like Nielson’s inner-punk mourning the death of a muse, turning to Runga’s soft-pop charms for solace, and subsequently reformed joins the choir! Through his ex-punk eyes Runga’s sound is taken back to basics, which is where the diaphanous melancholy nuances of Birds get stripped back. What remains is lightweight but ethereal, closest comparison being the second-half of Moon Safari by French Band ‘Air’. As with Air, Belle makes for great background music, but offers nothing beyond pop-platitudes to the casual listener.

There is real romantic ache to be mined here, but the prize is equal solely to the effort. Perhaps the Nielson/Runga duo have planted deliberate enigma here. The result’s still a pained question mark, to which the aforementioned revisitations will no doubt serve as remedy.