By Dave Bangert
Journal & Courier (Lafayette, IN) | September 6, 1991
Somewhere along the journey down from Moon Palace, Lisa Germano dropped a little bit of herself.
Tucked away in simple music-box melodies and songs that teeter between soundtracks of steamy back alleys and granger harvests home is a spare but challenging collection by the violinist you know best from John Mellencamp’s last two albums.
On the Way Down from the Moon Palace, Germano’s nearly single-handed debut, isn’t always clearheaded about where it’s going. But it gets at what Germano—the diminutive 32-year-old Mishawaka native who’s willing to play the part of being herself—set out to do.
Germano will be in concern Monday at the Vogue in Indianapolis. She opens for Debver-via-New Orleans roots rockers The Subdudes. Tickets are $7 at the door. The show starts at 8:30 p.n.
Moon Palace is the place in Eskimo mythology where women are protected and provided for, living a life of passive beauty. Men provide the means of beauty. Women reflect in their man’s toil and glory, yet never participate. There’s no failing. There’s no feeling.
Germano wanted the chance to fail on her own. Germano’s reputation—especially with Midwestern musicians—is tremendous, and for good reason. Listen to Mellencamp’s The Lonesome Jubilee or Big Daddy if you’ve already forgotten. Those sessions helped make her violin one of the most sought features in dozens of recordings and tours—including Simple Minds, U2, Adam Schmidt from Champaign, Ill., and Bob Seger.
But it’s always been someone else’s music. This time she had the vision and she did it all on her own, including answering phones for album orders.
“The idea of coming down from the Moon Palace was perfect for what I wanted to with this project,” Germano said from her Indianapolis home. “I just felt I had to everything on my own. I really don’t know if anyone will like it. But still it’s mind.”
Hers it is—violin, autoharp, mandolin, guitar, and accordian.
Other than the quasi-Mellencamp sound of “Guessing Game,” Moon Palace isn’t as immediately accessible as Carrie Newcomer’s homebrewed debut released thi year. Germano played with Newcomer on that disc. The eclectic set of songs are more reminiscent of Robin Holcomb’s debut from 1990.
There’s almost a feeling of drunken rambling in the collection of sing-song innocence and fear (“Riding My Bike”), lifeless relationships (“Hanging with a Dead Man”) and moodiness. All in all it works, and I found myself more intrigued with each listening.
It’s unfortunate—I’m not if that’s the right word—that her strongest tracks are the three she does with Kenny Aronoff, Mellencamp’s drummer. Aronoff’s always confident pounding puts more direction into the project, meant to be a test of one woman’s strength of vision.
