Knives Don't Have Your Back

The songs are emotive, and yet have catchy hooks; they are at times unrestrained and at others, calculated.

etric's clunky riffage and hi-hat beats are replaced by simple piano figures and subtle adornments (strings, feedback, breathing organ) that draw out Haines' most stirring vocal performances to date, and the muted milieu highlights her natural, sensuous whisper, lending a sympathetic thrust to these broken-down anthems for a thirtysomething girl.

Knives Don't Have Your Back is a striking contrast--and a poignant, subtle companion--to last year's Live It Out.

A lovely record. [Summer 2006]

Knives is a quietly simmering LP.

Stripped of their cosmetics, some tunes on Knives Don't Have Your Back seem underdeveloped, but they prove what always needs to be proved in the vortex of postmodern pop--that an artist like Haines can do more than hide behind her influences.

Haines has... shown glimpses of a broken and beautiful solo artist just waiting to tell her story. This, my friends, is that breakout album in spades. [Oct 2006, p.122]

With such sparse instrumentation, these songs are still thick; there may not be a beat here to dance to but there is a lot to grab on to certainly.

The results unfold like a well-plotted novel.

She may not excel on her solo album the way she has with Broken Social Scene or Metric, but it's still a rainy-day listen.