I’m back from a lovely holiday in Vancouver celebrating my wedding anniversary! We shopped, ate good food, and had a series of wonderful visits with a selection of dear friends, every one of whom I wish I saw more often.
I would have listened to this album while I was travelling, but somehow forgot to upload it to my portable device, and so was left with [gasp] random music. I decided to make a note of everything I heard on the flight each way.
Fittingly, the first two songs were by bands (Blue Rodeo, Blue Oyster Cult) that Sheila and I introduced to each other when we were first dating. Then I got Elton John’s “Candle in the Wind”, and a song by Tom Petty side project Mudcrutch (“Beautiful World”) before things got decidedly folksy with a run of Patty Griffin, Watkins Family Hour, David Francey and Mandolin Orange.
The flight back was cancelled, so no playlist resulted. Instead, I read a book while taking the slow boat home, via BC Ferries.
Disc 1545 is…. My Woman
Artist: Angel Olsen
Year of Release: 2016
What’s up with the Cover? Angel stares off into the distance, looking mildly perturbed about something.
How I Came To Know It: I had heard about Angel Olsen here and there, but it wasn’t until this record came out and I read a review that I decided to give her a listen. I was instantly smitten and have since bought most of her available records, but “My Woman” was the first.
How It Stacks Up: I now have five Angel Olsen records (two more since I last reviewed one). Of those five, I put “My Woman” in at #2.
Ratings: 4 stars
Angel Olsen’s music has a haunting nostalgic quality to it, like she’s the ghost of some lost soul inhabiting a young artist’s body. On earlier records she channels early Leonard Cohen, but on “My Woman” her music is more a combination of the jangle folk-pop of the Byrds and the sweet soulful rock of the Shangri-Las.
The production has a high echo to it throughout, which gives the music a patina, like you’re listening to something recorded originally in mono. It could have easily drawn to a tinny sound, but instead it just feels like an old movie, filmed in grainy Technicolor but so awesome you prefer it that way.
Olsen’s vocals are equally adept at telling a story and just painting a soundscape, and on most tracks she does a bit of both. She has a breathy head voice that cuts with a deceptive power, like a fast-moving current close to the surface of the water. This stuff can pull you under if you’re not careful, but even if you succumbed to the tide, it feels like it would be a beautiful ending.
The album opens with the collapsing dream of “Intern”, a song filled with struggle and uncertainty. It feels like a sixties art film theme where some Mia Farrow or Jean Seberg type twirls her way whimsically through the streets of Paris in a white mini-dress and stylish brightly coloured flats. This is followed by “Never Be Mine,” a classic unrequited love song from the same movie. Maybe near the end where our heroine has decided to move to Prague having learned the man she was pursuing was a bit of a cad. But I digress…
The second half of the record has much slower pace, with dreamy mood pieces like “Heart Shaped Face”. That swirling current of pop is still in her voice, but it now comes to you a bit slower and more diffuse. Despite the slow wind-down quality to the record, I never felt like things were dragging, even with two songs (“Sister” and “Woman”) approaching eight minutes each. “Sister” is a mini-epic all to itself, with multiple movements that build, then collapse, then morph into a reverb back-of-the-mix guitar solo.
Despite its pop sensibilities, “My Woman” is not immediately accessible, and it took a few runs for me to feel fully immersed. However, it is well worth the time, mixing basic pop hooks with songs that are artfully constructed and intricately arranged. Despite all these thoughtful decisions, the record never feels pretentious or self-aware.
Best tracks: Intern, Never Be Mine, Shut Up Kiss Me, Heart-Shaped Face, Sister
No comments:
Post a Comment