Nothing could be finer than a little Darcie Miner

I could never make it in the music biz for the same reason I could never be a scholar of Russian literature: I don’t speak the language. It’s not a lack of interest; it’s a lack of comprehension. For instance, while major labels invest millions in a string of musical mediocrities, a genuine article like Darice Miner has to fight and scrape and self-release a batch of songs as fine as Loneliness Anonymous, a heartfelt (and occasionally ass-kicking) album that ought to make her a star in the world of alt.country. Explain it? I can't even understand it.

The obvious comparison is Kathleen Edwards, a heartfelt ass-kicker if ever there were one, but Darcie’s no copycat. She mines the same territory of love and loss and Stonesy guitars, projecting a persona as much strong and sassy (not everyone could credibly pull off a song called “Bad Habits and You’re Full of Shit”) as delicate and twangy. If you’re here because you like the same sorts of music we like, this one is for you. If you’re here by accident, and you like Kathleen Edwards, Lucinda Williams and Sheryl Crow’s first three albums, this one is for you, too.

Darcie Miner, "Vulnerability"