Send "Juliana Hatfield " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 By now, Juliana Hatfield's business accomplishments have far outstripped her musical ones. In the early 1990s, she turned her cult notoriety with Blake Babies into "120 Minutes" buzz, and she harnessed the momentum from her 1993 decent-seller Become What You Are into something resembling a career. She's still going strong at a time when most of her alt-peers have long ago faded into obscurity or nostalgia tours. More than 20 years after her first recorded notes, she runs her own label (Ye Olde Records) and tours and releases albums on her own schedule. On her 10th solo album, Peace & Love, she goes from being her own boss to being her only employee: Not only did she record and produce it herself, but she played all the instruments, including guitar, piano, drums, and bass.Her DIY sensibility, still intact so deep into her career, is certainly admirable. Too bad it's not put in service of better music. With its acoustic strums and coffeehouse intimacy, Peace & Love sounds like that stalest of 90s relics: the unplugged album. In fact, it seems to be defined by Hatfield's limitations rather than her strengths. Her playing is rudimentary throughout, and while occasionally that beginner's aesthetic leads to some nice moments, such as the overlapping guitar lines that open the instrumental "Unsung", generally it makes the absence of a full band seem like a bad idea. The lead guitar licks that open the title track are graceless and awkward; on piano, she repeats the same theme over and over until it grates; and on drums, she barely keeps time....full text |
| Pastemagazine |
| The circularity of the modern rock ride is unnerving sometimes. The Blake Babies’ cult momentum brought Juliana Hatfield to the doorstep of Atlantic Records nearly 20 years ago, and you wonder if she would’ve flinched knowing that her 11th album two decades later would be self-recorded in a Cambridge bedroom. If forced modesty is the hallmark of the current business model, at least Hatfield has the grace to pull it off without bitterness or recrimination. While her album shares its laptop atmosphere with many other troubadours plying Boston’s streets, it’s sprinkled with heavyweight pro touches that belie her deeper legacy. “Why Can’t We Love Each Other” is a simple, breathless should-be hit, and the tightly compressed guitar solo on “What Is Wrong” screams with a veteran’s assurance. “Evan,” her fearless ode to, yes, Evan Dando shows that Hatfield is not afraid to one-up spartan with naked—and beautiful....full text |
| Popdose |
| Let’s get one thing out of the way right from the start – Peace & Love, Juliana Hatfield’s tenth full-length solo album (not including live, compilation or archival releases – but who’s counting?), is the quietest and lowest-fi record she has ever made. If it were 1993 again (or even 2008, for that matter), a set of twelve acoustic Juliana Hatfield recordings such as these would be considered little more than a collection of demos. Literally, Peace & Love is about 90% acoustic from top to bottom – acoustic guitar anchors every song, and in some cases, it’s the only instrument present. Electric guitar shows up as window dressing once in a while, but it’s never more than that. Even the occasional keyboard and drum machine cannot take away from the overriding voice of the acoustic guitar throughout Peace & Love. Now that we know what we’re dealing with here, let’s get to the other main point I’ve determined – or feel, to be more up front about it – is the main crux of Peace & Love: as a collection of songs, it’s been a long time since Hatfield put out a record so warm and affecting, so hopeful in its examination of loneliness and pain, and just plain comforting....full text |
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