BMG UK gathered nearly all of Beth Orton's brightest moments for Pass in Time: The Definitive Collection. This double-disc set does a decent job presenting Orton's undeniable gift as an artist, and those who are introduced to her for the first time here will be thoroughly impressed. Those longtime fans who already own her first three albums and the Best Bit EP might be puzzled at Pass in Time's unfashionably early arrival; however, the 24-song compilation merits the same consideration given to Orton's previous work. The second disc of B-sides, rarities, and remixes is more than enough to warrant attention, for the ten-song selection includes her stunning collaborations with the Chemical Brothers ("Where Do I Begin"), Terry Callier ("Dolphins"), and William Orbit ("Water from a Vine Leaf"). The original B-side to "She Cries Your Name," "It's Not the Spotlight" was exclusively reworked for Pass in Time, but the biggest surprise lies in the inclusion of two tracks from her Superpinkymandy album. With a little nudge from Orbit, Orton first introduced herself with this experimental-dance effort, which was only available in Japan and is now out of print. The glittering electronic twist of John Martyn's "Don't Wanna Know 'Bout Evil" and the gentle humming of "Where Do You Go?" give a glimpse of Orton's pre-commercial solo days. Pass in Time is a worthwhile collection,
On her stunning sophomore album, Central Reservation, Beth Orton slips free of the electronic textures that colored her acclaimed 1996 debut, Trailer Park, stripping her music down to its raw essentials to produce a work of stark simplicity and rare poignancy. With the exception of a pair of Ben Watt-produced tracks ("Stars All Seem to Weep" and a remix of the title cut), Central Reservation rejects synthetic sounds and beats altogether in favor of an organic atmosphere somewhere between folk, jazz, and the blues; the focal point is instead Orton's evocatively soulful voice, which invests songs like "Sweetest Decline" and "Feel to Believe" with remarkable warmth and honesty. It's a risky move creatively as well as commercially -- after all, the club culture was the first to champion Orton's talents -- but it pays off handsomely; for all its brilliance, elements of Trailer Park already feel dated, but the new material possesses a timelessness that recalls the best of Nick Drake or Sandy Denny, with a haunting beauty to match. And while much has been made of the melancholy that pervades her music, ultimately Central Reservation is first and foremost a record about hope and survival; its emotional centerpiece, the seven-minute "Pass in Time" (a spine-tingling duet with legendary folk-jazz mystic Terry Callier), grapples with the death of Orton's mother, but its underlying message of healing and perseverance is powerfully life-affirming -- her music hasn't merely discovered the light at the end of the tunnel, it's now bathing in it.