Hmm … Portishead if silky singer Beth Gibbons was replaced by Marlene Dietrich, or maybe Bea Arthur. Vincent & Mr. Green use the smoky mix and dark, screwed beats that could conceivably have already brought the long-missed Bristol-based duo into the 21st century. The music can be fascinating if not distinctive, and the self-titled record does have moments when it seems as if this might still get under your skin.
But lead singer Jade Vincent is no Beth Gibbons, and the record gets dragged down in uber-hip removal from its subject, rendering the compositions cold instead of passionate. Throw in some Mike Patton-like flourishes (his label released Vincent & Mr. Green) and some old-style folk-mindedness (they’re buddies with T-Bone Burnett) and you get a good sense of where this group is going: nowhere.