Okinawa native's debut proves fascinating listen

Caroline's electronic pop brings to mind Björk and Portishead.

By Walton Murphy

Published March 7, 2006

Few musicians are able to flirt with uncanny creativity and still remain accessible, to add substance in a pop genre filled with bland artists.

With her debut album, Murmurs, Caroline displays exciting songwriting potential, making expressive electronic pop music. Without the use of samples, nine musicians provide Murmurs with live instrumentation. The result is reminiscent of a pop-friendly Björk mixed with a modern Portishead.

The sister of a Japanese pop star, Okinawa native Caroline Lufkin has music in her blood. After graduating from Boston's Berklee College of Music, Lufkin returned to Japan to pursue her musical career. Recording demos led to a major record contract offer. But after turning down the contract, Lufkin moved to Los Angeles and signed to Temporary Residence Limited.

The opening track, "Bicycle," drifts along with a mysterious trumpet arrangement and a minimal synthesizer. Caroline's voice stands out noticeably. With a peculiar angelic texture infused with a hint of naivety, Caroline's vocals lend to her dreamy songwriting. This songwriting approach allows Caroline's vocal work to float within the songs rather than drive them.

The songs on Murmurs all contain warm, lush musical arrangements. The vibrant synth oozes out of the speakers on "Pink & Black," while driving bass arpeggio propels "Everylittlething." In addition, Caroline shows her skill in complementing these arrangements with cool, eloquent vocals.

In the fourth track, "Where's My Love," Caroline's warm melody accompanies the electronic lullaby beautifully. The song, blending the perfect balance of sweetness and attachment, is one of the more inviting tracks on the album. Imaginative, but still digestible, the sentimental "Where's My Love" stands as an engaging pop song.

Caroline's strength is her ability to combine different musical textures into cohesive ideas. Her songs convey a sort of tepid melancholy, and this combination of contradicting themes makes Murmurs an intriguing listen.

In "All I Need," the bittersweet lyrics, hushed chorus and airy instrumentation merge. "Hold that smile/That's all I need/Don't say a thing/That's all I need," whispers Caroline. A scattered beat backs the warm synthesizer hiss and Caroline's tender voice.

"All I Need," the most noteworthy track on the album, has a way of engulfing the listener into a contemplative state of mind.

The album's closing track, "Winter," offers a blizzard of strings with Caroline's innocent swoon. The grandiose melodies slush along, giving the listener a true feeling of winter.

For her debut album, Caroline delivers a solid effort, blending the right amount of creativity without alienating listeners.

Running slightly more than 36 minutes, Murmurs plays through nicely. With no deviating ideas, Caroline presents a clear and concise record, a rare occurrence with most artists' debuts.

The direction Caroline takes her music in future releases will be interesting. Whether she opts to approach her music with more experimentation or chooses to develop her accessibility, Caroline should still fascinate her audience.