Happenstance…the never can be…

Main Entry: hap·pen·stance; Etymology: happen + circumstance: A circumstance especially that is due to chance. - Merriam Webster Dictionary

I apologize for insisting on writing my own bio, but I just can not be satisfied with another’s account of my psyche when even I don’t understand it myself. Welcome to the world of this indecisive control freak hopeless romantic…

Happenstance, produced by John Alagia (John Mayer, Dave Matthews etc.), is a collection of songs inspired by my obsessions, often love related, but not always. It’s about the battle between chance circumstances and the belief that everything happens for a reason. The title and the back cover addition of ‘the never can be’ suggest that I’m not really endorsing chance, but, in fact insisting that there must be a reason for repeated broken hearts – perhaps a promise of a better situation, learning experience, the greater love etc. It’s a circular argument… and it’s merely a matter of ‘happenstance’ that the title is what it is anyway. Without the hopefulness of reason, how could anyone weather the highs and lows of relationships and this delightful junk called love.

Look to the second album for a more cynical approach in which it all goes to hell and nothing makes sense and chance is winning…

There is a combustible quality about newcomer Rachael Yamagata that for a lot of listeners will call to mind Fiona Apple: A first spin of Happenstance can make you itch with the thrill of discovery, but it also leaves behind the impression that its singer is vaguely dangerous; which is exactly what makes these songs so absorbing. "Everybody's talking how I can't be your love," she pouts in a melodically engineered stutter on opener "Be Be Your Love," one of several tracks pairing her with a piano that seems to take the brunt of the punishment for her wrecked relationships. The rest of the disc unravels with similar heat: When she growls in her full-time rasp that "(You've) worn me down/like a road/I did everything you told" on the very infectious indie-rock leaning "Worn Me Down," you believe her. But the less stormy numbers work as well, with "1963" coming off as flower-power pop grounded by a voice that knows better and "I Want You" wending its way through a fat, heartsick wallow to emerge someplace burnt in honesty. A late minute-long instrumental feels more tasteful than pretentious, adding to a monster of a debut already fueling hopes that happenstance--the term, not the album--will play a miniscule part in Yamagata's eventual output. --Tammy La Gorce