Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea - PJ Harvey

We drew Bjork's Post out of the basket this evening and L was particularly looking forward to dancing around our apartment singing It's Oh So Quiet. So dear reader, does it still constitute a classic album if it doesn't make the cut in the CDs we bought from Australia to Jordan?

In the honour of truly awesome female singers, we chose PJ Harvey instead. Most of PJ Harvey's albums made the cut in the move and since its release in 2001, Songs from the City, Stories from the Sea has been a regular album for L and is now much loved by B (his misogyny towards women in rock is, piece by piece, disintegrating). We pour an Irish martini - vodka, dry vermouth and Jamieson with a twist of lemon. The power goes out for 15 minutes part way through the album and we settle in for a dinner of raw vegies before it is fortunately restored.

An album about her love of NYC, Stories... is a rock album of the best kind - strong, soaring vocals, raging guitars and quiet moments that still kick you in the guts. You can't listen to This Mess We're In with Thom Yorke, a wail of a song, without joining in with tears of your own.

The two opening tracks are among the strongest - Big Exit and Good Fortune are big, rough openers with simple but evocative lyrics. Although PJ is singing of NY, wondering among the tall buildings, hungover in Chinatown with a boy, I mostly think of Melbourne.

The simplicity of the guitar allows PJ's vocals to dominate the songs. Not only are the guitar parts mostly basic chords, playing almost entirely an accompanying role, the guitars sound like they're coming through an $80 amp. It is raw and beautifully grunge.

The Whores Hustle and The Hustlers Whore is the greatest title for song. PJ Harvey's vocals are particularly affecting. Again she soares high. The lyrics capturing the full gamut of the people that inhabit NY.

Co-produced with Rob Ellis (ever wonder why Anna Calvi sounds like PJ?) as well Mick Harvey, it has the Bad Seeds written all over it. PJ won the Mercury Music Prize for this album, strangely awarded on 11 September 2001. While PJ reflected at the time that music didn't seem so important that day, I think days like that make an album dedicated to NY even more important.