8/23/2023 - After the Storm
Over the summer, I attended the summer music program that I attend every summer. This past year I had the privilege of taking a course on choral conducting and vocal painting. I was immersed in whole new worlds of vocal repertoire.
One particular class was dedicated just to listening. Everything our teacher played was heart-rending and beautiful. I remember remarking that the music made me “want to rip my skin off of my body and ascend to my final form.” And I meant it. But one song in particular compelled me.
I have been obsessed with After the Storm, sung by The Swingles, ever since.
It is relatively easy to understand why the singing is effective. The arrangement is beautiful, the tuning is impeccable, and there is a shared conception of gesture across the group. It is much harder for me to understand why the music hit me like a brick. Like a sack of bricks. I think what it comes down to is devotion.
I don’t necessarily mean the religious kind, although I do maintain that vocal music is inescapably spiritual. What I mean by devotion is the willingness to lose oneself in someone or something. After the Storm exudes this. Inherent to the text is devotion to someone. The whole song is an act of love.
In desperation, “on my knees and out of luck”, the soloist looks upward. Very thematically resonant! But, in these dark times, they can only think to be a voice of comfort. “Love will not break your heart,” the singer reassures, “but dismiss your fears”. This sheer dedication to the comfort of another entity (the audience of the song, the singer’s lover, the singer’s inner self?) is part of why After the Storm grabs me so.
Then comes the line that destroys me. “Get over your hill and see / What you find there / With grace in your heart and FLOWERS IN YOUR HAIR” (emphasis my own.) Even when this life is so shattered that one can only look for comfort “over the hill”, the singer cannot help but strive for tender appreciation.
This attitude, of being willing to set aside everything for a better idea, is evident in the artistic philosophy of The Swingles, and is arguably necessary for any kind of group musical endeavor. In interviews, they stress that “everyone has an equal creative stake in the music”. Members of the group frequently reference passion as the key to good performance— “they can tell when you’re faking it”.
This is the peril of vocal music, but I think it is the reason I find choir singing to be so transcendental. After the Storm, for me at least, served as a reminder that collaboration can be the most beautiful thing in the world when everyone is dedicated to an ideal. Music, performed successfully, can alter the course of someone’s life. I know it has mine.
9/21/2022 - The Junkyard 2My favorite album this week was The Junkyard 2 by Penelope Scott.
The Junkyard 2, in my opinion, concerns drowning. Scott weaves a poignant cry for help into every song, and as I listen I am confronted by my own struggles. No other music I have heard captures the desperate apathy brought on by my own despairs so well as The Junkyard 2. Penelope Scott’s candid portrayal of her mental health concerns begs empathy from even the most well-adjusted listener (a scant few among us musicians I suspect.)
If I sound melodramatic, it’s because I am. My grades suck, I am consumed by the unique persuasion of distrustful alienation that plagues teenaged minds, and I am still occasionally gripped by the preposterous conviction that such discontent is unique to my experience. Point is, misery loves company, and music makes truly excellent company. Anyway. . .
Scott’s imagery is highly compelling. In Lukewarm and Montreal in particular, she captures her pain with stunning presence. She likens her life to “stale bread”, proclaiming “I couldn’t pass the Turing test / if I had the answer sheet.” As her friends grow, laugh, and learn, she feels stuck. Elaborating on the disconnect, she laments that “the wires won't connect and your blood has been rejected.”
As much as the album explores pain, however, I ultimately interpret The Junkyard 2 as an unabashed advocate of self-compassion. Even as Scott mourns unwellness, she embraces it. In Baxter 3rd Is Under Fucking Siege, she assures her audience that “there’s no shame in sleeping later / no shame at all in sleeping more.” Even as she deprecates herself, she embraces the love she’s capable of. Without glorifying mental illness, she offers the hope that we all have an opportunity to grow.
Supporting her message is a deceptively simple musical background. A classically trained pianist, Scott brings a pop sensibility to otherwise dated piano vocabulary. Yet, even this early in her writing, her talent for expressive arrangement is evident. Songs are punctuated by clever licks and well-placed interludes. This knack shows throughout her entire discography.
This album is fun, and it’s reassuring, and it’s the truest art I’ve heard in a while.
I rate The Junkyard 2 five out of five stars.