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PJ Harvey
White Chalk
Island Records
Some consider
Polly Jean Harvey a genius, while I consider her a master of her
compelling art. Typically she rocks vengefully, full of guts and fervor,
yet here she is ghostly, pallid by comparison, singing in hushed voices
and occasionally soaring to the rafters like a banshee. Vocally, these are
some of the most graceful and tender notes she’s sung since Is This
Desire. She’s dropped the guitar in favor of an upright piano. The
change has suited her fine, though many of these pieces sound like demos,
giving the album a blurred edge. She’s found plunking away on
rudimentary block chords mostly, which at times can resemble her own
guitar style (“When Under Ether”). The trilling arpeggios in “Grow
Grow Grow” offer a break from the restrained rhythms.
In under 34
minutes, the record is over, which proves to be troublesome, as some of
the songs feel incomplete. However, nothing here is ever phoned in. The
gorgeous vocal work on “Silence” is underscored by Jim White’s light
chugging percussion, but it fades out too soon. The brevity may be the
effect of Harvey’s creative drive and not weak song writing. That drive
is a mystery and should remain so, though it can’t justify the
co-designed schoolmarm dress she exhibits on the cover.
The Magnetic
Fields
Distortion
Nonesuch
The instrument
list partially includes piano, Farfisa organ, accordion and cello, but you
don’t hear these sounds clearly on Distortion. With one of the most
appropriately titled albums ever, Stephin Merritt has taken it upon
himself to alter the sounds to create beautifully jarring noise pop.
Inspired by 1986’s Pyschocandy by The Jesus and Mary Chain, Merritt has
one-upped that group by adding his own snarling wit and tunesmith grandeur
to the mix. Not surprising is that Merritt chose not to use synthesizers
again, nor distortion pedals. How one alters a cello to sound like a buzz
saw without using traditional technology is anyone’s guess. Merritt
buries every hummable melody under shards of noise and Phil Spector big
beats. He offers some of his most humorous lyrics as well, “They come on
like squares and get off like squirrels, I hate California girls” (from
“California Girls”) to his least inspiring involving bitchy queens
(“Xavier Says”). “The Nun’s Litany” is musical theatre sans a
show while “Zombie Boy” is a 50s horror theme without a movie. From
the perky “Three-Way” which opens the disc to the somber charm of
“Courtesans” Merritt has made one of his most consistent sounding
albums since, 1993’s Charm of the Highway Strip, not to mention one of
his best.
Fanfare Ciocârlia
Queens & Kings
Asphalt Tango Records
I don’t know how I could sell this record other than to declare
my love for its brilliant sound, ebullient horns and utterly infectious
grooves. Fanfare Ciocârlia are most known for their appearance on the
Borat soundtrack singing “Born to be Wild,” which is here too. They
are a Romanian brass orchestra that has added an auxiliary of Romani
talent from across Europe. Serbian Saban Bajramovic’s world weary voice
sits surprisingly well next to Hungarian Mitsou’s cartoonish scatting.
If Pyrénées duo Kaloome can’t move you with “Que Dolor” this
record may not be for you. If you are indeed titillated, you’ll probably
find it trumped by Esma Redzepova’s pained cries and throaty
performances.
Blair Fraipont
lives in New York City. E-mail him at blairfraipont@gmail.com.
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