Whimsical creature Ann Danielewski, known as Poe. One day she might present herself as a turbulent and insecure teenager, the next as a mature and aware woman. When no one is watching, she indulges in sound recycling and asks you what you dreamed of the night before. It's hard to define a woman with such mysterious and particular charm, just as it's not easy to categorize her second work "Haunted": a result of numerous influences, prominently those from the best tradition of '90s female rock singer-songwriters and the most atmospheric and ambient electronics.
The album is a semi-concept album and, despite readings from the book "House of Leaves" by the singer-songwriter's brother, Mark Danielewski, it can be considered autobiographical, as among the numerous samples Poe uses to enrich her tracks are some recordings of her father (film director Tad Danielewski) found by her and her brother after his death. Legend has it that these were actual audio letters that Ann avoided confronting for a long time before being convinced to use them in her music.
However, this is not the only element Poe uses to enhance the sense of mystery surrounding her songs: they are appropriately divided by intros and short tracks, in which the recorded voice typically appears to say something or to have a dialogue with another voice, that of a child. These interludes not only add to the work's pathos; they also serve as a thread for the rest of the tracks, which would sound scattered without their coordination.
It is not by chance that the intro "Exploration B" further enriches the ethereal "Haunted", the title track and first example of how the skillful use of samples can convey the idea of a journey into the troubled mind of a young girl, marked by those "parapapa" that perfectly suit it. In "Control" Poe's singer-songwriter vein emerges; the detail and care dedicated to the lyrics are surprisingly sharp and well crafted.
The snare-driven "Walk The Walk" is a sort of declaration of independence, a "dirty" rock piece that immediately impresses by giving the impression of being improvised. On a similar note is the immediate rock beat of "Not A Virgin": daring, direct, and biting, filled with improbable similarities and disturbing symbolism. In other words: how Liz Phair should have sounded with the arrival of the new millennium. "Hey Pretty" is another rather catchy track, the kind that works both in a smoky niche pub on a Friday night and in some glossy car advert, the kind that would unite the mother-in-law and the indie-rocker friend. The warm and sensual vocal interpretation perfectly reflects the lyrics.
The greatest peaks of originality are found in the 9 minutes of "Wild", a slow progression from the artist's rock side to the more electronic one, during which ambient or sometimes almost dance references are not spared. In "5 & 1/2 Minute Hallway" it feels like hearing an improbable jam session between Björk and the best Cardigans, as if the vocal trips of the former were trapped in the bittersweet and melancholic layer of the latter. "Amazed" is the jewel of the album, with influences dangerously close to trip-hop or even - vaguely - to PJ Harvey's "To Bring You My Love" period, especially in the excellent outro where everything that marked the course of the album is recalled to surprise the listener. The work closes with the poignant "If You Were Here", a desperate attempt to establish contact with her father by dialoguing with his recordings, concluding with a final farewell.
"Haunted" is a forgotten album which, while not being an absolute masterpiece, deserves a listen not only for its relative originality (or "reflected" originality, if you will) but also for its notable richness of content. To date, this little gem has not yet had a follow-up; the traces of the fascinating author have been lost, and her voice remains trapped in the spectral unease of this album, waiting to be released.