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"Breath-taking!"-- Jason Hoffman, Whatzup Magazine

"...quite the talent, one to be reckoned with. Brilliant."
--Alan Haber,WEBR/budge.com

"...infectious beat-heavy piano licks."-- Laurie Koh, San Francisco Bay Guardian

"Get this album now."--J-Sin, Smother.net

"I love it."-- Amy Lotsberg, Collected Sounds

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True Margrit-- SEAWORTHY-- reviewed by Jason Hoffman
Whatzup Magazine
Sometimes you can listen to the radio for hours and have the music float right over you. But then a new song starts and it immediately grabs your attention and reminds you that music is supposed to be enjoyable. Such was the case with “True” by True Margrit off their album Seaworthy. Perhaps it was the strident piano that is soon accompanied by staccato cello that leads to an ominous verse that often takes a relaxed, hopeful breath in the simple chorus. More orchestration occurs as the song develops, at times refreshing and then suddenly threatening, taking the listener through many moods in just three and a half minutes without ever leaving it’s original melody. Breath-taking!

Fortunately the rest of the album is just as impressive. The band is formed around Margrit Eichler on piano whose lead vocals are lonely and soulful, expressive and sensitive without a trace of ego, similar in times to Aimee Mann or Mary Lorson of Madder Rose. Joining Margrit is Gary Hobish on basses and guitars and Andrew Bacon on drums, plus a whole slew of friends on cello, flute, sax, oboe, bassoon, and percussion. The music they create is very organic, sweet, and sincere, mixing pop, folk, cabaret, and jazz, a kind of friendly Dresden Dolls without the cruel self-aware pomp.

Consider the dramatic “Everyone Wins” where Eichler examines our need for love with a wistful longing, singing “It’s just a game / If there’s no risk / The whole world wants this” in a resigned fashion, building to an aggressive chorus of pizzicato strings and digging cello. The sedate “Electricity” cleverly compares the interaction between electricity and water to human relationships: “We never touch / We’re separate atoms.” Muted sax and a midnight feel lend to the stark and sobering feel of the song.

Seaworthy deftly combines mostly upbeat, bright, cheery melodies with a dark or melancholy edge a few yards below the surface. “Deliver Me” sounds like a breezy Randy Newman song with a hint of New Orleans jazz but the lyrics deal with blame and revenge. In the enjoyable “Members Only” Margrit recalls a dream in which she “joined the club” and became “endowed in ways I was not born”, stating “Now when I drift off the sleep/ I want my piano but you keep/ Strapping that guitar on me/ An instrument I do not need”, all with a wistful, playful, jaunty piano riff.

Thirteen songs and not a sinker in the bunch. True Margrit composes appealing songs in a variety of styles whose melodies are as playful as their lyrics, incorporating everyone from Carol King to the Breeders into a cohesive unity. The band gracefully rounds out their adult-oriented sound with enough layers, instrumental variety, rich harmonies, and rousing, singable melodies to bring you back to their open waters time and time again.

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True Margrit-- Seaworthy
Reviewed by Alan Haber, buhdge.com/WEBR

Seaworthy is a singular, astoundingly magical creation that announces itself like stride piano amplified for a very large body of water.
Just when you wonder where all the Ben Folds clones are, along comes Margrit Eichler and her able-bodied trio, True Margrit, to dispel the myth. While there are some Folds comparisons to be made, this is no attempt to fan the keys of a piano in the style of one who came before or since; Seaworthy is a singular, astoundingly magical creation that announces itself like stride piano amplified for a very large body of water (go with me on this, will you?).

Possessing the soul of a jazz player trapped in the body of a popster, Eichler tickles the ivories and stomps on them, often at the same time. It is important to remember that the piano is a percussive, as well as melodic, instrument, and this talented, committed player uses that duality to her advantage.

Sweet at one turn and elasticized the next, Eichler's voice is somewhat reminiscent of Aimee Mann and Andrea Perry; she bends the notes when it’s appropriate and sings them straight ahead when it’s not. Hers is a remarkable instrument—emotive, sensitive, and aggressive when the mood demands. She’s quite the talent, one to be reckoned with.

Eichler's music falls somewhere in the pond in which swims Billy Joel, Elton John, Mann and Perry. She’s intelligent, and not afraid to run the style gamut; she’s confident enough to deliver a hysterical tour de force, a thinly-veiled song about sexual confusion (but on whose part?) that is two-thirds of a step away from brazen, “Members Only.” The poppy number is a catchy winner, masterfully crafted, with one of the great lyrics of the year: “Now when I drift off to sleep/I want my piano but you keep/Strapping that guitar on me/An instrument I do not need.” Brilliant.

In fact, Eichler's playful use of language and keen ability to flesh out a story, sometimes with the barest of details, is one of this singer/songwriter’s greatest, most affecting traits. In the beautiful ballad “Electricity,” Eichler plays with the idea of electricity and waters sparking attraction, if not necessarily traditional contact; the lines “How can you say lights like sparks on the bay/Don’t reflect on the way waters illustrate/How they connect like electricity” are boundless as thoughts to spark our brains as we consider the basis and veracity of our connections in life.

Channeling the stride piano and New Orleans jazz of Randy Newman on the sprightly “Deliver Me,” Eichler weaves a “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” type of tale about blame, something she sings is “easier to spin…I’m vain enough when I get killed/To smile at the tears you spill.” With blame, I guess, comes revenge. Hah!

The idea of wanting something so bad that you’ll take the risk to survive is explored in the fetching “Everyone Wins,” wonderfully arranged to spotlight Eichler's piano and widescreen vocal. The song builds to an aggressive harmony onslaught, as sweet as it is propulsive. The other ideas explored in these songs are common to everyone’s consciousness, and subconscious, to be sure; the spin Eichler puts on them—how she adapts them to her musical attack—is the key to listeners being awed by her.

Water can be an incredibly passive image; it just lays there, affected only by nature’s gyrations and human activity. The image of water floats in and out of many of these songs. In “Hours in Reverse,” polar ice caps melt; in “Deliver Me,” the narrator smiles at the tears a person spills; in “Great Praise,” stars rain down; and in the closer, “Nothing,” the question is asked whether there is a “peaceful sea/you can go when you’re not yet dead/where waters lap and now you’ve snapped/nothing needs to be said.” Water appears, then, to have somewhat of a three-dimensional personality, affecting us in many ways, even as simply as the first drops of a shower slapping one’s eyeglasses with a liquid stain.

At its most extreme, water gets us from here to there; drinking it makes us stronger, even when our bodies’ inclinations are to be weak. On this dramatically musical and literate album, Eichler and her cohorts Gary Hobish and Andrew Bacon, along with a parcel of special guests, shine their spotlight on all manner of water—perhaps, most especially, the people who are made of so very much of it.