Sometimes when you listen to an album your attention will drift in and out; other times a song or two will pass by before a riff or chorus recaptures your ear and you start to listen intently. Then there are albums like Mirror Mirror, The Irrepressibles’ spectacular debut album, that bowl you over with the first blast of sonic Technicolor and consume your attention from beginning to end.

The first thing you notice about Mirror Mirror is lead singer/frontman Jamie McDermott’s lamenting, tremulous vocals. Right from the get-go, in the bold, punctuated march of “My Friend Joe”, they gracefully command the waltzing, theatrical melody supplied by the rest of the band. Intimate, occasionally eerie, and orchestral to a fault, the nine person ensemble calls to mind with startling clarity scenes of a jovial, sprawling circus and a solemn, ornate cathedral by turns as McDermott’s tenor soars, twirls, and glides between the fluttering woodwinds and subdued strings. Their sound is markedly distinct and doesn’t wear thin. From McDermott’s vocals warbling and rolling along on the back of the driving all-band chorus in the cavernous “Anvil” to the sprightly piano flourishes coupled with buoyant woodwinds on “In Your Eyes”, the aptly named The Irrepressibles’ flamboyant watermark is delightfully audible.

All glamor aside, however, the most captivating aspect of Mirror Mirror is McDermott himself. The first time you listen to the album it may slip by you, but by the second or third time you’ll begin to notice the dark hues of deep intimacy and emotion in his tonal palette. You’ll sense, past the falsetto and orchestra, him taking solace in the personal confessions and anecdotes that comprise the lyrical content of most of the songs, evincing the symbiotic relationship McDermott appears to have with his music. His effusive vocals, glowing with passion, grow sympathetically with the equally expressive orchestrations, the instruments matching his mood, and sometimes even presaging emotional changes to come. He seems to draw from, and sometimes to revel in, the music as much as it draws upon his well-trained voice. It shows in the slight cast of satisfaction after his passion peaks and in the honesty with which he sings the lyrics. As the caliber of McDermott’s musicianship becomes increasingly clear, you will find yourself tuning out your surroundings to better hear his velveteen croon, the anticipation exuded by the harmonizing strings, and the gallop of the woodwinds propelling the songs. The light-hearted, flamboyant first impression will give way to heavy thematic weight of McDermott’s intimacy with his music, as he hurls his deepest regrets, insecurities and passions against the buttressing orchestra.

”Tide”, for example, is one of the best songs on the album because it exhibits the intimate connection between the singer and the music so well. Set to a slow tempo in a major key, the instrumental accompaniment is kept to a minimum, nothing diluting or obscuring the strength of McDermott’s passionate delivery. The structure of the song itself emulates its lyrical content, “Tide, the tide, washing over me,” as it slackens and soars, flowing gently in in small waves before sweeping back out to leave McDermott solo, carrying the song with ease. At one point, around the 3:10 mark, we are left with a simple call and response between McDermott and the rest of the band, with only confessional’s black silence as a backdrop, and the effect is astounding. Reminiscent in many ways of a session of ardent prayer, the vocals fill the room, simultaneously warm and cold, repentant and sinister, sending shivers down your spine. The exchange lasts less than thirty seconds, but its effects remain undiminished even after repeated listens of the album. It is in ”Tide”, more than in any other song, that we see, as clearly as we may ever see, that almost tangible bond between McDermott and his songs.

In the end, more than simply the music itself, the soul behind it leaves an impression. The intricate, fugal compositions of The Irrepressibles captivated me, immersing me in one of the best performances of orchestral pop I’ve ever had the good fortune of hearing, but it was only after I had stopped listening to the Mirror Mirror for a couple hours and found myself constantly recalling the raw emotion in McDermott’s every coo and roar that I realized its true worth. Listen to this album, really listen, and you will not be disappointed.

Track List
1. My Friend Jo
2. I’ll Maybe Let You
3. In Your Eyes
4. Anvil
5. Forget the Past
6. Knife Song
7. My Witness
8. Nuclear Skies
9. Splish! Splash! Sploo!
10. The Tide
11. Transition Instrumental
12. In This Shirt