Insite Magazine
Atlanta, Georgia
Spring 2003

Class: Ambient lullabies.

Portishead's success and genius have resulted in quite a few copycat bands that would love to duplicate the soothing sounds of Bristol's finest. Snowy (a.k.a. Bonni Evensen) is one of these bands, but that doesn't have to be a criticism as long as you can add something new to the trip-hop equation.

Evensen's smoky, torch-song style does sound a bit like Beth Gibbons's (especially on "Couldn't Say No"), which is unfortunate because the comparison creates a battle she can never win. But Evensen brings a poetic darkness to her work that contrasts Gibbons's lyrical approach enough to be judged on their own merits, and they're actually pretty damn good. If that still makes Snowy copycats, well, there are worse bands they could ape.

One should start listening to Lilywhite at "Candlelight," as the first three songs amount to a tuneless false start. Evensen's evocation of how an ex-lover's gift candles spark bittersweet memories is miles more artistic than the fluff more obvious love songs offer. The title track is even more poetic, as Evensen comes to terms with a friend on life-support ("Am I talking to myself?/It's summertime in here/but you'd never know"). Such poetic license is actually more subtle than Portishead's more obvious nobody loves me sentiments. Gibbons's voice is much more powerful than Evensen's, but the latter makes up for it with her lyrics. The backing music is your usual ambient trip-hop fair, but even more mellow as it eschews the jazziness of its contemporaries. This album is perfect for the anxiety of a late night alone in the dark, and nearly flawless after its slow start. (B+)