Graham Reid | | <1 min read
Eleanor McEvoy: Three Nights in November
The little I know about this singer is that she was on one of those Irish women compilations, the kind of thing that gets about 35 seconds in my house before it is tossed at someone who cares.
I tried a few early on and found them mawkish, sentimental and frankly just plain boring.
But this album is the polar oppostite: McEvoy sings with a hurt, adult, bruised tone, is virtually free of sentimentality, and her lyrics sound lived in and hard won.
She also does a fine version of Marvin Gaye's Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology) which is an almost impossible song to pull off well. Scattered around here are songs of considerable wit (Non Smoking Single Female which kicks off this collection will drag you in), uncontrollable passion(Wrong So Wrong), bitterness towards those who betray (To Sweep Away A Fool) and much more.
So I still know very little about McEvoy other than this one helluva good album.
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