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Lisa Germano | Review

Orlando Weekly | Rob O'Connor

Her albums are strictly late-night, known by word of mouth, and inhabit a world apart from the everyday grind.

In The Maybe World

7/13/06


Lisa Germano's albums are the aural equivalent of the subterranean rock club. As a woman who's shared the recording studio and stage with John Mellencamp, David Bowie and Wendy and Lisa, she's headed underground strictly on purpose. Her albums are strictly late-night, known by word of mouth, and inhabit a world apart from the everyday grind. They're not invite-only, but you're well advised to do some homework before showing up.  Otherwise, you may find yourself feeling uncomfortably out of place. 

Not out of any too-hip-for-the-room quotient, though; Germano wears too many of her neuroses ‹ sexual, psychic and filial, and this time out, mortal ‹ in her grooves to make any pretense toward the whims of fashion. No, you must prepare yourself because this is a world where no one greets you with a welcoming hello, where the show is already in progress and where you will have to find your own way of deciphering the plot. It's a private world in an alternate space.  In the Maybe World sounds all of one piece. Its 12 tracks flow together as one long déjà vu, and melodies appear and reappear, drifting in a sleepy pop backwoods and sounding like '60s-style Marianne Faithfull after a handful of downs. That's a good thing.
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