Washington

The loss of love is a huge player in this album the bitterness of Cement is a middle finger to the guy that ditched her when she was most vulnerable, it might well prove to be a huge hit is given the right chance, which can be said for a lot of the album. There’s something about Washington’s tone and the style of music that could lead her to having the same impact that Florence and the Machine have had upon the charts.

There is a confidence and swagger to Washington’s debut that you really feel throughout the album, it’s a rare thing for a debut album to be this accomplished sounding but Washington pulls it off. There’s little doubt of her talent as I Believe You Liar is one of the best and biggest surprises of the year; Megan Washington is clearly a smart girl whose passion and style within her song writing shows that she is going to be around for a while and could very well be the voice of 2012.

4.5/5

Words by Matthew Foran - tqsmagazine

Over the past two years or so, Megan Washington has slowly carved out a reputation for producing quirky and enlightening pop songs. Tracks like Cement, Clementine and How to Tame Lions managed to gain regular radio airtime, and the Australian public slowly began to take notice of the talent that was at hand.

With I Believe You Liar, Washington fulfills all expectations by producing an album that is full of twists and turns, highlighting the Melbourne chanteuse’s ability to be equal parts uplifting and inverted when the time is nigh.

There is so much variation on I Believe You Liar that it is hard to really single-out Washington’s style. However, at its core, the music is quintessential indie-pop, with subtle tangents that help to make each track unique. The combination of mostly high-end electric guitar and catchy piano hooks pushes the majority of the album. Another attractive side to Washington’s sound is the frequent use of either shakers or tambourine in the rockier, upbeat tracks on this album, which help to further engage the listener. These elements are no more evident than at the beginning of the album, with Navy Blues and Cement encapsulating the real pop aspect that is scattered throughout I Believe You Liar.

Songs like The Hardest Part and the tango-inducing Spanish Temper carry on with the more playful components of the album, showcasing Washington’s impeccable turn-of-phrase in her songwriting. In contrast, the minimalism of tracks like Lover/Soldier and Underground highlight a more emotional and reflective characteristic of the artist’s music. In the case of Underground, Megan takes the role of a balladeer, singing lyrics that evoke images of sunny days spent with family over a lightly finger-picked electric guitar. Bona fide singles Rich Kids and Sunday Best further strengthen the mid-section of this album, and it is these tracks that display the more chic elements of Washington’s sound.

The album also features previously released tracks such as Clementine and How to Tame Lions. The former opens with a deep synth line that ultimately leads into a joyous, optimistic sounding tune, and shows off Washington’s ability to write lyrics that are simple in essence, but still seem to represent greater meanings. How to Tame Lions, in the same vein as Clementine, opens with a drone-like keyboard beat and slowly opens up to display a more introspective side of the singer that questions ideas of life and love with quite thoughtful analogies. It is interesting to see how these two tracks almost find the middle ground between the upbeat and down-tempo extremes on I Believe You Liar.

Washington manages to find the perfect balance in a lyrical sense between the harder, edgier songs and the more emotive and raw moments on the album. It is clear that the singer has given herself plenty of freedom in the songs that are written, and the unpredictability of time signatures and lyrical content helps to make the album a more enjoyable listening experience on the whole. The album culminates in the beautifully crafted title track, which floats along through a symphonic-sounding string section backing an elegant grand piano line, and sees Megan singing with more emotion than any other track on I Believe You Liar.

Put simply, this album is going to great things for Megan and her friends. In I Believe You Liar, we witness an artist with raw talent and emotion not scared to write unashamedly pop songs that are unique, yet still manage to connect with a wide audience. It appears Australia has a new female songwriter to embrace, and it appears we will be embracing Washington for years to come yet. She has certainly established herself amongst her contemporaries with this album; it is hard to imagine what more she can come up with, but the prospect is indeed an exciting one. - Faster Louder

Megan Washington is at this very moment teetering on the cusp of full blown notoriety; well that is if recent radio airplay of the catchy single Rich Kids is any indicator.

Washington appeared on the Australian music radar in 2008 when she was “Unearthed” as the saying goes. It is no wonder that the progress of her band has been closely monitored since this moment as she in turn realised three well received EPs: Clementine, How to Tame Lions and Rich Kids. Finally, after extensive touring her full length debut I Believe you liar is set to take Triple JJJ and likely a wider audience by storm.

At first listening there is nothing absurdly new here as Washington does what they do best: bring together high energy rhythm, piano and guitar driven blues to create a unique blend of radio friendly pop. All three titular songs from the EPs have made the cut and are clear winners in terms of balance between story telling and infectious toe tapping melody.

The album starts off with a track that has also appeared on previous recordings 1997, the only co-written song on the album and a notably family themed track. It does feel like a strong melodic starting point for an album that at its heart is about relationships or as identified in interviews; a specific relationship. Washington strikes that earnest note between lovelorn optimism and disappointment, often at dynamic pop rock pace. Cement is the most obvious example of a song that balances the bands upbeat tempo and themes of betrayal and love. Megan Washington is known for writing autobiographically, which insights intrigue at times; what exactly was written on the pavement outside her house?

Washington lyrics are rarely laden down in metaphor and allegory opting instead for layered, honest and simple expression; both a strength and weakness depending on the song. Where this approach works best, and rightly so, is on the track “I believe you liar” the cathartic end note of the album. In fact it’s the albums quieter and reflective moments such as Underground and Solder / Lover that we get a true sense of the writer and her nostalgia for the way families or relationships are at their peak.

The songs off the EPs do remain the stand-outs of the album however those craving new Washington will quickly warm to the fresh material offered here. As always Megan Washington’s voice musters emotion with the ease that many singers would die for. With a tour about to kick off to accompany the album it certainly seems this hard working band are set to reap the rewards of what they have sewn.

Washington’s debut album I Believe You, Liar is out now. - Same Same

The first obvious musical comparison point for Washington’s long awaited, and eagerly received debut album is that her voice sounds a lot like Laura Imbruglia, while the music sounds like that of her older sister. Saleswise, she may only move a fraction of Left Of The Middle’s six million copies, but locally she has made more than a moderate splash, crashing into the ARIA charts at number three.

And there is no shortage of reasons why the songs of Megan Washington have connected with an audience. Most obviously, they are poptastic, the album being twelve blasts of radio-ready pop with enough indie-cool to win over those who felt that Sia was a little too sugary sweet.

Secondly, her image is that of perennial outsider, or sexy librarian, depending on how you see the world. Her acerbic barbs during interviews, self-effacing persona and witty lyrics makes girls want to be her friend and guys feel they are able to pull her; an easy formula that has seen a steady mix of sexes at her recent run of shows. Thirdly, a lot of these songs have been tested on audiences before, with a number of tracks drip-fed over the past few years via a series of EPs.

Finally though, the album is just good. Witty, clever lyrics are married to infectious pop melodies with enough instrumentation and tinkering to hold attention after the first few listens. The only downside is the aforementioned pilfering from past EPs. 5 out of 12 of these tracks have been released before, and unfortunately for those who have already collected the back catalogue, these are the strongest songs.

Opening with the nostalgic and instantly addictive 1997, and following with two similarly paced songs, the ballad Underground comes just in time to add variety to what could have been a one-note album, before the one-two punch of Rich Kids and Sunday Best declares game over before the first side is over (figuratively speaking, I don’t believe there is a vinyl release of the album yet).

The highlights of side two (figurative!) are more than enough to maintain interest; the lilting Spanish Temper, Lover/Soldier, which threatens to tip over into MOR jazz territory but has the good grace not to, and the song which introduced most people to Washington, the still stunning How To Tame Lions, which sits as the penultimate track. The title track is an out-and-out ballad, anchored by syrupy strings, which would be laughable on a lesser track. Here they work, and steer the record to a classy close.

This is a strong debut album, and it will be interesting to see Megan Washington’s next move now the back catalogue has been exhausted. - The Music Network

Megan Washington is the daughter of Catholics with convict lineage. She has one sibling - a sister who apparently likes to bake - and when she dies she wants to be cremated. The Melbourne singer, with cropped hair and thick-rimmed glasses, isn't shy of divulging her desires and fears on her stunning debut album. Almost two years in the making, I Believe You Liar is a deeply personal affair, but it’s by no means cumbersome or lugubrious. There's sweetness and light as much as plaintive introspection.
Teaming up with producer John Castle - who also plays drums in her band live - Washington has crafted a debut with a deep reverence for the pop idiom, brimming with luxurious arrangements and blossoming hooks. The musical touchstones are beautifully varied: she cherry-picks sounds from '60s Motown, through to Elvis Costello and right up to modern-day indie pop purveyors like Death Cab for Cutie and The Shins. It's in the alchemy of these influences that Washington gleans her own sound; one that’s so assured it’s easy to forget you’re listening to her debut.
Throughout I Believe You Liar, Washington assumes the role of the irreverent philosopher. She’s more inclined to analyse a situation than simply recount it. Her lyrics are dotted with rhetorical questions. On ‘Sunday Best’, a sprightly song about lust, she asks, “Do you know what’s in my head when I’m below you?” On album highlight ‘How To Tame Lions’, she offers, “How do you tame a lion when they are lying low?” She leaves answering these questions up to the listener.
‘Underground’ is the simplest cut here, consisting of a rolling, plangent guitar riff and Washington’s mellifluous vocals. But listen closely and you realise she’s singing her will. Songs like ‘Underground’ and the gorgeous closing track, ‘I Believe You Liar’, are delicately juxtaposed with more energetic numbers, such as the infectious ‘Rich Kids’ or ‘The Hardest Part’. It gives the album an emotional ebb tide that you can’t help but ride until the end.
As a whole, it’s an album that’s hard to fault. The only real aberration is the oldest tune, ‘Clementine’, whose lyrics feel too naive when placed against the rest of the songs here. That aside, this album is a paragon of contemporary pop songwriting; a batch of intelligent songs that don’t kowtow to cliche or LCD lyricism, but are still wholly accessible and consistently exciting. As far as debut records go, you’d be hard-pressed to listen to a better one this year.
by Dom Alessio - Mess & Noise

Megan Washington, usually referred to somewhat stylishly by last name, is an Australian solo artist who rose from obscurity a few years ago due to her infectious personality and original melodies. Her debut album, I Believe You Liar (designed to be an 'ouroboros' like phrase) is an insightful journey through modern Australian culture, as well as being sufficiently fun and animated to sustain even the most fleeting of attention spans. Rooted strongly in a career of Jazz music, Washington draws on her knowledge of the genre to create punchy pop songs as well as restrained and lyrically adept indie ballads.

Opening solidly through '1997', the album glides through ups and downs both in tempo and sentiment, exploring the social experiences of the standard teen to twenty-something while still somehow managing to still be interesting. By focusing on the more involving matters involved in the plight of the adolescent, rather than the standard 'love', 'alienation', 'depression', that we've all heard so many times before, Washington creates a sort of niche for herself that she can fill with her minimalsitic stylings and abstract imagery.

The instrumentation present on 'I Believe You Liar' is primarily a vessel for Megan's voice, which easily raises the standard of each song, yet can also soar to intriguing heights and surpass the vocals which dominate most of the album, as is the case in the flamenco-ish 'Spanish Temper'. Simple beats are scattered throughout, from the up-tempo 'Sunday Best', to the reserved and obscure ballad 'Clementine', which are cleverly crafted upon to form layered and diverse tracks which also feel flowingly cohesive in the scheme of the album.

Supporting the lyrical content, the musicship shines, creating effortlessly clear imagery to go along with the theme, such as found in the dorky '80's' beats of 'Navy Blues' which seamlessly brings the listener along on a viewing of the standard (and unabashedly awkward) middle school dance. Another shining example of this ability is present on the downbeat examination of death in a family 'Underground', which cleverly characterizes quirky personalities effected by a tragedy. Through earnest representational lyrics, such as:

"When I'm gone don't weep and moan
Where I'm going is a pleasant stay
I'll visit my grandfather's home
Drink gin with Billie Holiday"

The artist conjures up colourful and relatable experiences to enrich the song. Infectious emotion abounds on the album, creating a platform for the listener to engage with and enhance the tracks. Even while discussing the impossible and fictitious, Washington grounds her music in sensation and warmth.
Though lyrically simple, I Believe You Liar employs the aforementioned sentimentality in grabbing the listener and drawing from memory and past cognizance. In 'Rich Kids', Washington humbly reminisces:

"I met you under neon
All of the lights were flickering off and on
Everybody's coming down or throwing up
Or sleeping around
I remember why I left this town"

Continuing on from the excitable and faced paced tracks, the methodical 'Clemintine' takes its place. Plodding along the abstractified love story which it holds proudly as a narrative, the song explores the subjects of devotion and infatuation through dense metaphors and surreal imagery. Accompanied by a fantastic music video (strongly recommended to be viewed, now), Megan's voice beckons the listener into a soothing world of obscurities and fiction.

The downfall in Washington's debut effort lies in the somewhat self assured efforts of some tracks, such as the morose album closer and title track 'I Believe You Liar', as well as the unprogressive 'Lover/Soldier'. These tracks, which rely to heavily on lyrical content, fail to fully contain the excitement of the album, and also lack the musical diversity and unabashed energy present on there rest of the album. When finishing the album, a more satisfying conclusion could easily have been found in the brilliant 'How To Tame Lions', yet instead the title track helps the album to end more with a whimper than a bang, which would have ultimately been more fitting.

Overall, Washington's debut album 'I Believe You Liar' works both as an intriguing study into the Australian culture, and as a fun collections of infectious indie pop songs. Through the use of minmalistic yet intelligent instrumentation and relatable, diverse lyrics, Washington fully brings to the fore her iconography in the modern Australian music scene. Well worth a listen. - sputnikmusic

Megan Washington is a tiny pale ball munching on an apple in the middle of a big brown beanbag. It’s 3:30pm and she hasn’t had time for lunch – but with a schedule like hers I’m not too surprised. The 24-year-old writer, namesake and frontwoman of Melbourne’s Washington is 33 shows deep in a 36-date national tour, supporting The Beautiful Girls. In Sydney for the Enmore show, her label is killing two birds with one stone, and taking her around to do some promo for her own upcoming release. The night after we talk, she’ll be performing her debut album I Believe You, Liar at a showcase in front of the Sydney music industry. I suggest she must be a little drained. “Well, I’m on a beanbag in the foetal position,” she says dryly. “So, yeah. You know. Tired.”

Washington’s album is the culmination of three EPs, two and a half years of touring, a handful of luck and a whole heap of Very Hard Work. After studying jazz at the Queensland Conservatorium of Music, Megan moved from Brisbane to Melbourne in 2007 to develop her own sound in a more nurturing city. In her single ‘Rich Kids’, she paints a pretty stark picture of what it was like trying to be creative in a Brisbane where, “everybody’s coming down, or throwing up, or sleeping around. I remember why I left this town…” Nothing sugarcoated there – but then Washington isn’t one for sugarcoating. She’s exactly like her album, actually; fun, honest, insightful and undeniably down-to-earth. Although she’ll readily own how exhausted she is, she’s just as happy to be here.

Washington got her first real break in 2007, after a chance meeting with Old Man River’s Ohad Rein at a Melbourne bar. A week and a half later she’d joined his band and was flying off on her first international tour. One tour lead to the next and all of a sudden it was 2009, and she was launching her debut release, the Clementine EP. It was her first official departure from that background in jazz. “The next door neighbour between jazz and pop is folk,” she tells me, “and Clementine was really folky.” Following Clementine was How To Tame Lions, Washington’s breakthrough EP. “That EP was very classical harmonically, but with those electro sounds,” she says – apparently ‘Cement’ was based on a Bach sonata. “It’s about figuring out how classical music can work [commercially] – but without being Muse.” The title track from that EP won her the Vanda & Young songwriting competition, with a prize of $20 000 and return trips to the US and the UK.

All of a sudden, the doors had flown open. With two songs added to triple j rotation, Washington was invited to appear on Spicks and Specks. And then on Rockwiz. “They don’t often let you do both,” she tells me excitedly. “It was super cool!” It was on Spicks and Specks that they uncovered the notorious midget-tickling story (google it.); on Rockwiz, she got to perform a duet with G-Love. “I was high-fiving my fourteen-year-old self!” she exclaims, before launching into a startlingly convincing rendition of ‘Baby’s Got Sauce’. After the show, Rockwiz asked her on their national tour – and she was on the road again. “I got to sing with Angry Anderson, John Paul Young, Ross Wilson… You know Ross Wilson? I did a dance to ‘Daddy Cool’ when I was about seven, for my dancing class.”

When she shows me a seated rendition of the dance (which has 1993 written all over it), it strikes me that Megan has somehow gotten to work with most of the people she admires – from Ross Wilson, Ohad and G-Love to the album’s co-collaborator John Castle, and some of the artists behind her film clips: creative collectives like Greedy Hen (‘How To Tame Lions’) and We Buy Your Kids (‘Clementine’). She seems to have friends in all the right places these days. “Well, I try. I have this stupid idea: I believe that you can be friends with the people you work with. And if you’re not friends with them, then don’t work with them,” she says, matter-of-factly. “That’s been my whole career mission statement: surround myself with really talented people, and then just stand at the back.”
Washington’s third EP, released earlier this year, was Rich Kids – and the title track from that one signified her breakthrough to commercial radio. But that’s three whole EPs before an album release. An unusual choice? “Well, I just really wanted to be ready,” she tells me. “I didn’t want to just bust out with a bunch of tunes and go, ‘FUCK YEAH I MADE AN ALBUM, PEOPLE!’ – because it just wouldn’t have been very good.”

Which finally brings us to How To Tame Lions, the debut album that’s got her on the cover of this very magazine. The LP has jazz-fused folk, heartbreaking ballads and moments of the funnest, danceable pop songs out this year. When she was a kid, Washington dreamt of starring in musicals – which is pretty obvious when you watch some of her film clips. Take ‘Rich Kids’, with the pre-pubescent coming-of-age sleepover dance-off; or ‘Sunday Best’, an homage to French new wave equipped with genre cl - The Brag

Megan Washington is really, really tired. You can hear it in her voice as she tries to be genial down the phone line from whatever godforsaken state of America she’s in today, but it’s obvious; Australia’s golden child needs a rest. It’s telling, given that her latest musical project is entitled Insomnia, a collection of haunting, minimalist pieces written while the young performer was trying – and failing – to sleep. Back in Brooklyn after her final show with synth rock pioneers OMD, with whom she’s been touring for the last month or so, Washington is focusing on the important things in life, like eating coconut flakes for breakfast, getting a piano into her third story apartment (“I eventually just gave up and got a keyboard instead”), and the wonders of having fucking amazing internet.

“I read the other day that something like 70% of people don’t have it,” Washo says between chomps, as we discuss how difficult it is to stream her music on Australian networks. “Can you believe that? I mean, up until last week my parents still had dial-up. I said, ‘Mum, I can’t come to your house unless you get cable, this is ridiculous.’” Back in the USA, where the fibre optic cables are firmly in place, Washington is still hesitant to assign permanence to her stay. “I don’t know if it’s a move or not,” she says. “The further I go down this road, the more it becomes apparent that even though when you start making music, you think you know what you’re about and what you want to say… the further down I go, the less I know any of those things.” That’s a big admission from an artist whose debut record I Believe You Liar is now being released worldwide, but Washington is keenly aware of the irony. “People are asking me about this music and my relationship to it, and I’m finding the whole experience really bizarre.”

Welcome to the Washington paradox, which is actually the Serious Artist Paradox, and has been for about thirty years of popular music; being successful is wonderful, except for some of the stuff that comes with it. “On the one hand, it’s great that my record is out all over the world, but on the other, I have one release coming out in one country, and another somewhere else.” What Megan’s talking about is the fact that I Believe You Liar is now so big in Australia that it’s getting a re-release, with Insomnia forming part of the added incentive for those of you who don’t own it already (all five of you…). But Washington doesn’t see Insomnia as a proper album, even though it’s sort of being marketed that way. “A record should have a conscious, cohesive vision,” she says. “I had these songs and I just recorded them and put them out. That’s it. [But] there’s a certain amount of midwifery that goes around the release of something.”

The rolling melancholy of Insomnia, for those who have heard it, is perhaps even more personal than Liar, reminding listeners that beneath the celebrity and the rock’n’roll lifestyle and those goofy glasses is a girl very far away from home. “I would really like some sleep and just to synthesise everything,” Washo whispers, “I mean, it’s been a pretty huge year and – uh… I’m sorry. I wouldn’t mind a break for a little while.” Washington’s been so hard at work that not only has she not even read the overdramatic press release for the new material (“I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s possible that I approved something and someone else knowingly submitted the things they wanted…”), but she hasn’t even heard the record itself. Seriously. “I still haven’t heard the mastered version!” she laughs. “It got mixed and mastered and John [Castle, bandmate and producer] put some clarinets on it or something, but I just didn’t want to hear it. Not to be a sad sack but this past year hasn’t been the greatest. I just wanted to document what was going on inside my head and put it out there. But I don’t want to tour this – no way!”

Insomnia, which is more Rufus Wainwright than The Shins in its execution, seems to be a change of heart for the indie songstress. But for Washington, that’s perhaps a more reasonable way of doing things. “That classical, spiritual world of songwriting is kind of natural to me because of going to the Conservatorium and everything. I think that once I consciously tried not to write a pop song, this is what came out. It’s an unfurling of long-appreciated tastes rather than something new.” And Washington is happy revisiting her favourites because frankly, she hasn’t had time to pick up any new influences. “I was on tour for five weeks and then I had to get furniture and try and get a piano up the stairs,” she says. “I still haven’t really lived here yet. And you know what? I think I’d really like to do that.”
- The Brag

Melbourne-based singer Megan Washington has picked up six nominations on the back of her Top 10 debut album I Believe You Liar, including Best Female, Best Breakthrough, Best Album and Best Single.

Brother/sister duo Angus and Julia Stone also have six nominations, including Best Single for Big Jet Plane and Best Album for Down the Way.

Perth rock band Birds of Tokyo, eccentric Adelaide pop star Sia and Australian Idol discovery Guy Sebastian also scored six nominations each for the event taking place in Sydney on November 7.

Washington, 24, was overwhelmed by her swag of nominations.

"To be honest I feel a bit pukey, I'm so nervous. I just want a cup of tea and a lie down. I haven't quite processed what is going on. But I'm going to have to get a new dress, which is awesome."

Washington is up for Best Female alongside Kylie Minogue, Sia, Clare Bowditch and Lisa Miller.

``I just feel like the weird cousin someone invited by mistake,'' Washington said.
- Herald Sun

You know when you're looking at some large, illuminated rabbits under
a big top that some fun and frivolity is definitely on the cards.

Add some seriously cool specs, great tunes, an amazing vocalist, and a
dash of harmonica, and you've just poured yourself a comprehensive
cocktail of I-may-not-go-home-alone-tonight.

It is, of course, the Spiegeltent, and I'm here for tonight's
performance by Megan Washington, a.k.a. Washington. As an up and coming
Melbourne-based singer-songwriter, the painfully talented Washington and
her equally gifted band tonight came close to making this reviewer help
fulfil their definition of a 'chanteuse' ('a female singer,
especially one who sings on the stage in a theatre or bar where elegant
people fall about in frantic and frenzied splendour').

If only they'd removed the elegant part…

There is a definite element of whimsy here. Washington's geek-chic
glasses (a notable feature of her collaboration with The Bamboos' in
their King of the Rodeo film clip) appear for only one song to
henceforth disappear film clips featuring one armed, cartoon monsters
are described and Washington's own open and funny stage personality
all serve to emphasise 'play' and the pleasure of performance.

Fittingly, it's also a feature of the music itself. Washington's
use of keyboard and the unusual addition of a glockenspiel add an almost
nursery rhyme-like contrast to the clear, mature vocals she can produce.


With songs titles like Snakes and Ladders and In the Belly of the
Whale, Washington continually draws the listener into a world that
references the power of childhood and imagination, both fable-like and
black.

This is not to suggest, however, that Washington produces an immature
sound or that her lyrics lack depth. Rather, this performance was full
of beauty and insight, and particularly in the solos, where
Washington's bandmates step aside and allow the clarity of her
voice to really shine.

Songs such as Lightwell, Someone Else in Mind, and the encore, In the
Belly of the Whale, serve to remind the audience that they are in the
presence of a powerful and unique voice, whose jazz inflected, sonorous
qualities possess a maturity beyond its years.

That said, one of the particularly enjoyable aspects of this
performance is its showcasing of multiple instruments, and Ross Irwin
deserves special mention for his seamless movement between the glock,
harmonica, keyboard, and trumpet.

It is this fusion of instruments and breathtaking vocals that give so
many of Washington's tunes both a delicacy and a captivating energy.

For this reviewer, however, it is Washington's storytelling
abilities, both in song and in conversation, which were the highlight of
the evening. There's just something a little bit wack about her quirky
dialogue, and it's worth keeping a careful ear on her lyrics for some
imaginative and witty concoctions.

With tales of gorilla-human love affairs (actually captured in a
beautifully rendered ballad of primate-passion) and a confession of
being herself prone to dwarf molestation, Washington seems likely to
gain some serious attention off stage as well as on—I think we'll be
seeing a lot more of her soon.

- Maria O'Dwyer Arts Hub

Within an hour of emerging from Three, my spirits had been restored in full and were getting close to overflowing. I was enjoying my first-ever visit to the Famous Spiegeltent, which like the TARDIS is larger on the inside than it may at first appear from the street, where a young chanteuse named Megan Washington was busy putting the cherry on top of my weekend. I don't what it is about her, but I could listen to Washington forever. I first heard her live in 2006, when my friend Ali, who had recently decided to become a jazz singer, came to Melbourne and took me to Bennett's Lane, where Megan was singing with some trio or quartet. Ali had known of Megan for some time, at least since 2004 when the Queenslander had won the James Morrison Generations in Jazz Vocal Scholarship back in my hometown of Mount Gambier. It was, if I remember correctly, the first time I had ever been to a jazz club, and Megan in particular blew me away. (What? Surely you must have expected at least some level of personal sentimentality to cloud my judgement on the matter...) I don't know what it was about her then (she is pretty, which may have something to do with it), but I knew I wouldn't forget her easily, and indeed when I came across her for a second time not long after moving to Sydney, I was so excited I would have put down money to hear her sing the phonebook.

Washington, though, is no longer strictly a jazz singer; rather, her work now seems to travel along (as someone else put it nicely) the three vertices of a triangle: jazz, psychedelic-pop, and rock. Here, the second vertex seems to take precedence, and indeed in songs like 'Clementine' and 'Belly of the Whale', the influence of groups like Stars, The Shins (though I frankly hate to admit it), and even Broken Social Scene, is readily apparent. But there are important differences, particularly when it comes to Washington's vocals, which contain more than a subtle hint of her jazz background and ultimately lift her above the ranks of, say, Amy Millan or Emily Haines (even though 'Anthem for a Seventeen-Year-Old Girl' is one of my very favourite songs and Haines's vocal track on it is marvellous). Aside from mere (mere!) technique, Washington also boasts an enviable dynamic range and that always rather impressive ability to ornament and embellish right there on the spot, a trait which, while common to jazz singers, sopranos and hip-hop artists, is not something you often hear much of in an indie pop or rock set. But Washington is not at all showy with her talents, not overbearing or mannered. Displaying both an all-too-rare level of modesty and, more importantly, impeccable judgement as to when she should bring out her bag of breathy, vocal tricks, she is precisely the kind of upstart singer I've come to have great affection for. Listening to her sing the phone book, I think, wouldn't be half bad at all. - Estoric Rabbit

By the time Megan Washington graces the stage, a crowd fit for a
Friday night have made themselves comfortable, and the anticipation is
high. Known in Brisbane - and indeed, around the nation - as a
jazz singer, tonight is a chance for fans to hear another side of Miss
Washington, a side influenced by contemporary artists such as Rufus
Wainwright.

Accompanied on guitar by alt-country muso Chris Pickering, Washington
is both playful and contemplative, her voice travelling through the
Troubadour like a whisper carried across the sea, shining on songs
such as the delightfully titled Humming Song and a hauntingly
beautiful rendition of Neil Finns Try Whistling This. - DANIEL CRICHTON-ROUSE

"The first thing you notice is the voice: pure and light, with an
ability to float from note to note as gracefully as a butterfly. And
just as a butterfly moves without a hint of self-consciousness, Megan
Washington's voice articulates each lyric she sings with exquisite
naturalness.

The second thing you notice are the lyrics themselves - poetic without
being deliberately obscure, and filled with striking imagery:
"knuckles whiter than snow"; a heart "hot as bitumen"; a lover's
bedroom with "an army of spiders and silkworms that come in the night,
silently spinning"

Then there's the music, which fits seamlessly around the lyrics in a
way that feels absolutely right. Paul Grabowsky composed and arranged
the music in collaboration with Washington, who moved to Melbourne
from Brisbane in January to focus on this new project. It feels like
the perfect marriage: Washington's voice and lyrics with Grabowsky's
powerfully empathetic compositions.
- Jessica Nicholas.