My Gift Of Song by Rhonda: A Kiwi Gem That’s More Than Just Vocal Pyrotechnics
Back in 1980, New Zealand's own Rhonda dropped My Gift Of Song, a record that straddles genres like Folk, World, Country, and Pop with all the grace of someone trying to balance groceries on a unicycle. Released under CBS, this album is basically Rhonda showing off her pipes while taking us through some classic tracks you’ve probably heard your gran hum in the kitchen. The style? Unapologetically vocal-heavy—like karaoke night at its finest—but with enough sincerity to make it stick.
Now, let me tell ya, diving into an album where half the songs are covers feels a bit like walking into a cover band gig expecting originals but still having fun anyway. And oh boy, did I have fun. Two tracks stuck out for me like socks after laundry day: “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina” and “Rainbow Connection.”
First up, “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina.” If you’re thinking Evita vibes, yeah, you’re not wrong—but Rhonda gives it her own twist. She belts this one as if she's standing on a windy hilltop somewhere in Middle Earth (hey, she IS from NZ). It’s dramatic without being over-the-top cheesy, though I will admit there were moments when I thought she might summon actual llamas mid-song. Her delivery makes you feel every ounce of heartbreak and defiance—it’s kinda hard not to lean back dramatically while listening, even if you're just sitting in your car stuck in traffic.
Then there’s “Rainbow Connection,” which hits different here than Kermit’s original version. Where Kermit sounds wistful and dreamy, Rhonda brings a warmth that feels almost maternal. Like she’s saying, "Hey buddy, life ain’t perfect, but look how beautiful those imperfections can be!" By the second chorus, I was ready to pack my bags and chase rainbows myself—or maybe just go find a pot of gold so I could afford rent next month.
The rest of the album keeps things cozy too. Tracks like “Over The Rainbow” and “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes” remind you why these tunes became standards in the first place—they’re timeless, emotional gut-punches wrapped in melody. Sure, some renditions veer close to elevator music territory, but hey, sometimes elevators need good soundtracks too.
What strikes me most about My Gift Of Song is how unpretentious it feels. This isn’t some avant-garde experiment or edgy concept album; it’s just Rhonda doing what she does best—singing her heart out. You get the sense she picked these songs because they meant something to her, not because they’d sell records. And honestly? That’s refreshing in a world full of calculated pop hits designed by algorithms.
So, would I recommend this album? Absolutely—if you’re into heartfelt vocals dripping with nostalgia, or if you want proof that New Zealand had more musical talent in the '80s than just Flight of the Conchords. But fair warning: once you hear Rhonda belt out “Evergreen,” you may never listen to Barbra Streisand’s version the same way again.
Final thought? Listening to this album felt like finding an old photo album tucked away in the attic. Dusty, sure, but filled with memories worth revisiting. Except instead of embarrassing childhood pics, it’s Rhonda serenading you with songs you didn’t know you missed. Now excuse me while I go see if I can learn guitar chords for “Mull of Kintyre”—because apparently, bagpipes aren’t my thing.
