Music Review: Shanna in a Dress, ‘Robot’
A recent Nashville arrival delivers her one-of-a-kind blend of absurdity and tragedy on her debut album.
Shanna in a Dress, Robot album artwork.
Shanna in a Dress has been on our radar since we encountered her at the Great River Folk Festival in La Crosse, Wisconsin, in late summer of 2021. Her clear, effortlessly melodious voice and quirky lyrics set her apart immediately, as did her oddball humor (in both songs and stage patter): She likes to explain how she developed her stage name because her real name, Shanna Hoar, didn’t seem like a great option. (And I’ve never seen her not in a dress, so it fits!) Her songs veered without warning from ditties that were practically standup comedy bits to devastating ballads that brought tears to my eyes.
Shanna wears her heart on her sleeve—as well as her wit and self-deprecation, her insecurities and sorrows—and yet it always feels like there’s something more to her than what’s being conveyed, though it’s not for lack of trying. In Robot, she explores a wide range of emotions in a way that seems semi-autobiographical but could just as easily be about putting herself in others’ shoes and trying to see the world from their perspective.
In the first few songs, we’re treated to character sketches diverse enough they could each be about a different person but, sung in Shanna’s unmistakable voice and style, it’s hard not to think of them together as a composite sketch of a very complex singular person. The title track describes someone who feels disconnected from the rest of humanity, unable to feel or act the same way she thinks others do:
On autopilot my body walks around the world so mechanically
He died, she’s born, he’s married, I’m bored
And I don’t even shed a tear
I’ve become vacant and numb
Programmed to what they all want to hear
Shanna in a Dress. Photo credit: Dave Providence.
However, the very next song displays worried empathy for someone else. “Playing With Fire” counsels a friend heading into a dangerous situation—I imagined a bad relationship but the lyrics are open to interpretation. As with “Robot,” playful imagery (“I know lightning striking looks so damn exciting / but flying your kite gets you electrified”) and bright instrumentation keep the feel of the song light. It has a pop-friendly melody and rhythm—with some doctoring I could easily see it becoming a pop anthem (though I’m very glad it’s not overproduced like your average radio fodder).
Even farther from the emotional numbness described in “Robot” is “Daddy’s Little Girl.” There aren’t many songs that get me every time—in fact I’m kinda mad at this song for so effectively giving me a lump in my throat whenever I listen to it. A chronicle of a daughter growing slowly, inexorably distant from her father over the years, it hits with painful accuracy at the mixed emotions of both being a parent and having a parent. Its structure and theme somewhat resemble a weepy mainstream country anthem—if only they had lyrics as well-crafted as Shanna’s:
I remember staring at that picture on the wall
Daddy had a mustache, Mom had a long-sleeve wedding gown
Don’t think I didn’t notice when she took it down
Shanna in a Dress. Photo credit: Carol Roth, 2022.
If by now you’re struck by the contrast of the first three tracks, trying to piece together this robotic yet caring and sometimes sentimental person, the fourth song “Everything and Nothing” lets you know that it’s not just your imagination. This single paints a picture of a walking contradiction flummoxed about her own identity:
It’s hard to pick who I want to be
When I’m everything, and nothing, and anything in between
Feeling inferior yet superior to others, scorning money while having to hustle for it, self-absorbed yet neglecting self-care, lazy but hardworking, she can’t find an easy definition of herself in the collection of anxieties and paradoxes that pervade her mental state.
Next on the album we get three songs that show a romantic side to Shanna’s songwriting—which is first served up with a heavy dash of humorous self-deprecation in “Shitshow.” In this jazzy number, complete with a juke-joint-style piano interlude, a messy, disorganized girl wonders at her tidy, methodical boyfriend’s tolerance.
The Odd Couple-esque pair make it work: “But you say I wear my shitshow on the outside / it’s not the kind I try to pretend to hide / others you know are volcano eruptions / after you've already chosen to trust them.” And anyway, the song concludes playfully, “I know you ain’t complainin’ ‘cause you get to see me naked.”
The second love-focused song, “Finite,” gets more serious, contemplating how deeply it’s safe to get into a relationship that you know is temporary. Does love have to be permanent to be real and fulfilling? It’s an unusual perspective, portraying someone who’s half swept up in the romance of the evening while part of them is standing outside the situation, aware that it’s bound to end.
The third in the triptych of romance songs, “Boomerang,” is a bouncy, lighthearted track in the lyrical tradition of love advice given by a mother (think The Shirelles’ “Mama Said”). I’m quite fond of this song’s maternal guidance: “If all you want is love, you better give it away / it will come back to you like a boomerang.” The second verse of advice comes from a “genie in a bottle” who admonishes, “You only need to not treat your heart like a book of checks / as though the less you use it the more rich you’ll get.”
Shanna in a Dress. Photo credit: Carol Roth, 2022.
As if putting this wisdom to immediate use, in “Have a Great Day,” Shanna turns her focus to observing strangers, imagining their past or current struggles hidden beneath their public facade. Did this man reading a book with a furrowed brow have a hard childhood, go to war or lose a wife? Is that seemingly perfectly put-together woman feeling heartbroken or on the edge? Whether their troubles are about money, loneliness or something else entirely, the chorus sends out a prayer for their happiness:
Maybe you don’t ever feel seen
But I see you
And I hope you find a Franklin in your pocket
I hope you find the love you always wanted
And I hope you have a great day, great year, great life
Robot is a rollercoaster of moods and sounds, and Shanna chooses to end it on a note of sheer silliness. “Mmm, That’s Hot” lists a litany of things she finds sexy in a man: taking care of mundane chores, answering texts, putting off sex when she’s tired. The cheeky half-spoken song culminates (or should I say “climaxes”) in a dirty but sweet double entendre: “They say nice guys finish last and they’re right—you always let me come first.”
Having seen Shanna in a Dress perform live several times, I can say that this spectrum of heart-rending to hilarious is an accurate representation of her as an artist. And even though the tone of the songs vary so wildly, there’s consistency in Shanna’s curiosity about everyday emotions and experiences, her ear for slightly off-kilter wordplay, and her profound desire to connect with other human beings that comes through in every story she tells.
Carol Roth. Photo credit: Dan Lee.
Carol Roth is a full-time marketing copywriter and the primary music journalist and social media publicist for Adventures in Americana. In addition to studying the guitar and songwriting, Carol’s additional creative side hustle is writing self-proclaimed “trashy” novels under the pseudonym T.A. Berkeley!
