Magazine article The Christian Century

Sound Alternatives

Magazine article The Christian Century

Sound Alternatives

Article excerpt

THOSE WHO DISCOVERED Joanna Newsom's full-length debut The Milk-Eyed Mender (Drag City, 2004) fell without exception into two camps: either they ran screaming from her Betty-Boop-on-helium voice and tales of bridges, balloons and beans or found themselves enchanted and amazed. Here was a young woman playing the harp--the harp!--making pop music so original and magical that it sounded as if it emerged from the cracks in C. S. Lewis's fabled wardrobe.

This reviewer fell into the latter camp. So it was with great anticipation that I awaited Ys (Drag City, 2006), an album already hailed in some corners as the best independent release of the past 12 months. I'm not prepared to go that far, but let's give Newsom, who is all of 24, credit for taking big steps forward in artistry, vocal prowess and imaginative scope. The promise of her early CD expands into a vast world--five songs sprawled over a length of 55 minutes. Her ambition is obvious; Chicago's Steve Albini (Nirvana, Robert Plant) recorded Newsom's harp and voice, and Ys was mastered at London's famed Abbey Road studios. Yet it's hard to detect an ounce of fat anywhere--though other excesses can be found.

One thing noticeably lost on Ys, compared to its predecessor, is a sense of intimacy. This is a much more choreographed, orchestrated effort. Conductor Van Dyke Parks takes Newsom into cinematic realms. As the opening of "Emily" unfolds, one can hear Newsom's voice--grainier and more restrained than on Mender--dancing artfully with harp arpeggios and breathless string runs. The listener rolls down the hill with Newsom in a giddy, slow-motion Edith Piaf tumble.

Just as in his early, overwrought work with the Beach Boys, Parks revels in pasting ornate flourishes atop Newsom's basic tracks. That's too bad, because on Mender the songs made you feel as though Newsom was playing for you alone in an antique conservatory space. Here she sounds as if she's projected onto the big screen. That's not necessarily bad, but what's gained in grandeur is lost in coziness.

It's next to impossible to to convey the fantastical, labyrinthine worlds of Newson's lyrics, which involve black airplanes flying in night skies; monkeys and bears heeding the cries of an eager stable boy; ears filled with buzzing bees; pronouncements seemingly culled from lost 18th-century novellas ("Cold, cold cupboard, lord, nothing to chew on!"). Animals aren't just walking or ambling, they're "spelunking"; love is not merely declared or deceased, it becomes "a toothless hound-dog choking on a feather."

Ys will reward the time and investment of the adventurous listener. Newson's work is as bramble-filled as her verbal musings, but it has enough surprises to demand layers and layers of loyal listening. Happy spelunking.

Some other notable CDs:

Dream Again, by Phil Keaggy (Strobie Records). Singer-songwriter.

In the hands of a lesser artist, casting oneself as musical cousin of Paul McCartney would be a dangerous business. But besides being a masterful guitarist, Keaggy has a heartfelt grip on what makes for soulful, soft rock. "Kathy's Song" is a tender tribute to Keaggy's older sister, while "Why" shuffles dynamics to produce an old-school protest against poverty, ignorance and war. The too-literal "Redemption" comes off as preachy ("Do I want to be right or redeemed? …

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