REVIEW: St. Vincent - Actor

Here's something that I've written more recently about an artist that I got into after hearing "The Strangers" on NPR. Let me know what you think of the review - thoughts on what you'd like to read next?

What's interesting about St. Vincent (née Annie Clark) is her classic aesthetic mixed with modern wit and sensibility. She plays into this dichotomy really well in her 2009 album Actor; everything – from the tongue-in-cheek lyrics of “Laughing With A Mouth Of Blood,” to the see-sawing woodwinds on “Marrow” – captures a refreshing tone that explains her sudden widespread popularity over the last year.

That's not to mention the superb production effort from Clarke and John Congleton. Dramatic percussion arrangements add a bit of bite to something that's only just obscuring its alt-country roots (I can almost hear the plucking banjo underneath the fuzzed-out guitar roar on “The Neighbors”). Even the cabaret chorus of “Actor Out Of Work” walks a fine line between the swooning overdubbed “aahh's” and the slightly-off-kilter crunch of the guitar that follows them. In fact, that crunching guitar shows up throughout the entire album, creating something of a motif and adding a lot of the mysterious atmosphere that makes Actor such a listenable album. It's one thing to appreciate a varied collection of musical influences, it's quite another thing to know what will mix well with what, and I think Actor strikes an excellent balance.

Much of the album's success comes from Clark herself. Her's isn't a particularly powerful voice – I've heard even Jenny Lewis belting out with more conviction – but its power lays in its power of deception. Line's such as, “Laughing with a mouth of blood / from a little spill I took,” resonate through its quaint word-choice and visceral imagery, making it pop through her delicate, almost conversational singing.

Apparently Clark arranged the whole album using the Garage Band program on her Mac, which could explain its experimental edge. Some artists might go overboard when faced with the sort of god-like power technology can supply. Clark fuses her knowledge of melody and good pop with the the software's power of easy orchestration – adding layers that complement rather than overpower each other.

REVIEW: Thom Yorke - “Hearing Damage,” New Moon Soundtrack

Back in July of last year, the first rumblings that Thom Yorke had signed on to the Twilight Saga: New Moon soundtrack appeared, which (when that rumour turned out to be true) initiated one of the more bizarre collisions of high and low culture in 2009.

The album is packed with '09's most recognizable indie heavy hitters such as Grizzly Bear, Lykke Li, and Bon Iver. All three artists had critically lauded albums out in the past two years, which begs the question: why New Moon? Why deign to support a franchise that, to those with more discerning tastes than your average 13-year-old, is clearly the sum of female-perpetuated misogyny and an inability to comprehend the moral behind the Wuthering Heights? The answer could simply be, “Thom Yorke did it first.” There's also a slim possibility that, through music, these artists can accomplish something – a sort of deeper exploration of the themes involved in a series about self-loathing and assisted suicide – that both the novels and the films gloss over.

The record as a whole is alternately moody and poppy – much like the book and (one would think, thought I haven't seen it) the movie. Bella's vampire boyfriend ditches her after a disastrous birthday party (a human celebration that Bella despises because it celebrates life as mortals know it, something she wishes she didn't have.... life. Seriously, this girl constantly wishes she were dead throughout the book). Then she spirals into an intense, night terrors-inducing depression for several months. This is clearly the down part of the story, and precisely where Yorke's “Hearing Damage” fits in.

An eerie atmosphere created by the initial electronic drone sets the tone for “Hearing Damage.” A sort of pulse is established and built upon by a drum beat, which leads to the opening lines, “A tear in the membrane / allows the voices in.” Could the opening lines allude to Bella's need to terrorize herself in order to “see” Edward? In the story, Bella starts to have aural hallucinations of Edward's voice whenever she puts herself in danger. Yorke goes on to sing “You can do no wrong / in my eyes,” which is a more clear representation of what Bella thinks about her relationship with Edward. Although he left her in a state of absolute anguish, she still sees him as a god-like figure to which no past or future pain can be attributed to. The song goes on in this fashion, alluding to Bella's depression and constantly re-asserting Bella's belief in Edwards innocence and perfection.

The Pitchfork.com review of this track brought up an interesting question: Who is this for? I hadn't really considered it when listening to this album. Probably with the ever-presence of new media sites online (like Pitchfork itself) the same twi-hard fans that read Stephanie Meyer's books are also able to enjoy a good Fleet Foxes album, much to the chagrin of university-educated music aficionados who know that Hamlet was never a tragic hero, and certainly that Heathcliff is more of a mad sadist than he is a swoon-worthy leading man. Through the ears of the fans, “Hearing Damage” is probably more romantic than my interpretation.

Is this one of Yorke's best work? No, not at all, but it is a good interpretation of this unconsciously complicated story that hints – if not exactly screams – at the subtext behind a vacuous teen romance novel.