Mira is the kind of debut CD that makes me hope like hell there's a follow-up coming from the band very soon. Unlike most of Projekt's roster, Tallahassee-based Mira doesn't fit in the gothic ambient mold, although you can maybe hear some of labelmate Love Spirals Downwards in Mira's fuzzed-out guitars paired with gorgeous female vocals (the much-lamented Moon Seven Times might be another fair point of comparison). Current critical pigeonholing would probably slide Mira into the "shoegazer" box, but that just doesn't capture the raw emotional power of the album to suck you in and spit you out staggering in wonder at the end.

Whatever you want to call Mira's music, it's breathtaking. Take "Cayman," for instance, which starts with solo bass, then kicks in shimmering guitars, drums, and Regina Sosinski's paradoxical voice, sometimes small and vulnerable, sometimes confident and defiant, but always lovely. The song builds up a wall of fuzzed-out guitar and pounding drums, knocks it all down to a gentle strumming, then throws it back up again, just one example of the awesome range and control of dynamics that runs throughout the album.

My favorite track, though, is "Real," a breakup song that kicks the usual wounded mopiness in the ass, focusing instead on the frustrating mix of anger/pain/sadness/confusion that all too often marks the end of something that might once have been beautiful, or might have been shit from the start. Quick-strummed nervous guitar with dark undertones of bass sliding underneath becomes a seething sea of sound, heavy waves of distorted guitar and drums alternating with gentle picking and strumming, slowly receding till only the solo lonely voice is left, repeating a mantra of love and loss, then nothing, nothing at all.
-Dave Aftandilian

The self-titled debut album from Mira is comprised of 10-vocally rich guitar-based tracks that can be favourably compared to the sounds of Love Spirals Downwards, This Ascension and State of Grace. Lead vocalist Regina Sosinski is backed by Tom Parker (guitar), Alan Donaldson (drums) and Max Fresen (bass). The band are based in Tallahasse, Florida.

Mira's appearance on last year's Projekt compilation, A Cat-Shaped Hole In My Heart, garnered the most press and fan attention of any track on the album. That song, "Cayman," also appears on this debut album. Regina's vocals soar above driving guitars and light percussion and the band's sound departs somewhat from the goth orientation that the label is often known for.

Mira's sound typifies the heavenly vocals genre and is carried by Regina's soaring lead vocals while guitars drift in and out of moody alternative rock style melodies. While some vocalists with such sweetness would require multi-tracking to produce power, the clarity and confidence evidenced in Regina's voice carries melodies without doing so. The album's ballads are balanced with gently rocking numbers. The album opens with "Alone," a tender ballad perfectly constructed to introduce the band's sound and the clarity of Regina's voice to the eager listener. The band's intensity spans an equally evocative range with "Real" being one of the album's harder pieces.

"Blister" is one of the album's standout tracks. Sung primarily as a ballad, the track's chorus moves right along uptempo with a lovely hook. "Even Now" is similar in its construction with heavier instrumentation but equally stunning crystalline vocals. The effective blend of guitar-based instrumentals and voice clearly explain why the band are garnering such critical attention. The goth sounding "Something Ventured" is more traditionally Projekt but vocally more stunning. Regina's vocals are most stunning, soaring and mixed way up and over the instrumentals, in the album's closing masterwork "In The End."

The debut album by Mira is a wonderful blend of stunning heavenly vocal work with richly produced instrumentals. While most of the tracks are soothing in their construction, the album's contrasting rock textures contribute to its overall interest and will expand the label's audience outside those that prefer only the melancholy.

While we were most impressed with lead vocalist Regina Sosinski's performances the instrumental work is superb. A stunning debut album certainly worth a journey, it is a must listen!

There are certain moods to which different songs and bands adapt in each individual's mind. Or maybe it seems like that for those of us who are pseudo-intellectual to a fault. Still, sometimes it is the listener's mood that makes a song; you may hear a song that's good but not be able to distinguish it from others in its genre. For example, unless you listen carefully, most songs in the gothic, techno, shoegaze categories may all sound alike in the long run, whether it be due to the songs themselves or the genres' stereotypes. Yet there are times when, you may hear that indistinguishably good song in a particular mood, upon which occasion, you become hypersensitive to the way the song snakes around you and tightens its hold. It's like both you and the track having x-ray vision; because it is so perfectly attuned to the way you feel, you hear the subtle minefields of emotion that exist upon the present soundscape.

Such is where the extraordinariness of Tallahassee's Mira lies. The comparisons to The Cranberries are rather unmistakable at first listen and influences that range from Slowdive and The Cocteau Twins to early Cardigans (minus the kitsch) span the entire album. You can throw Mira's derivations left and right if you want, but then that would be missing the point. The band's eponymous debut is like cyanide; the initial strains of the album may leave the impression of well-intentioned, harmless, ethereal dabbling, not unlike the taste of almonds. But savor the record and it brings on an insidious, poisonous falling into guitar-wound songs washed with vocalist Regina Sosinski's soaring-into-the-depths soprano. "Real" inches forward with Sosinki's ominous pondering and a poignant guitar melody before exploding into erratic, dark bursts of percussion-backed chorus. Being hypnotically held down by the guitar and Cure-esque drumming of this song, you struggle between the bonds of the song (and your own emotions) around your wrists and the vocal angelics that call you up into the distance. You fight, you struggle, and you always willingly lose to the totality of the song and the moods it either creates or helps to further. Someone once told me, "It's not just about...songs." But sometimes, especially in the case of Mira, it is.
-Tania Biswas