Jolie Holland w/Marc Ribot, Shahzad Ismaily: The Living and the Dead

Indie Pop / Alternative Folk / Songwriter
premiera polska: 2008-10-09
kontynent: Ameryka Północna
kraj: USA
opakowanie: Gatefoldowe etui
opis:
multikulti.com * * * * 1/2
Czwarta studyjna płyta amerykańskiej songwriterki Jolie Holland to must have fanów otwartej rockowej formy. Po pierwsze zaskakuje składem. Bowiem spotykamy stałych współpracowników Toma Waitsa, czyli gitarzysta Marc Ribot czy drummer Kenny Wolleson, jazzowego multi dmuchacza - Colina Stetsona, czy pakistański ekspat - multiinstrumentalista Shahzad Ismaily, współpracownika Carli Kihlstedt, Vijay'a Iyera i Marka Ribota.
Po drugie zapożyczając z amerykańskiego folku, jazzu, bluesa, soulu i rock'n'rolla opowiada swoje własne, oryginalne historie.
Po trzecie w końcu jest w jej muzyce melancholia i zaduma, doskonale rymująca się z miękką łagodnością, która jest cechą zespołu, nie rezygnując wszelako ze zgrzytliwych dźwięków bluesa.
Ta teksaska wokalistka jawi się niczym sukcesor samego Toma Waitsa, który od lat związany jest z tym samy wydawnictwem - ANTI Records.
Te piosenki są fantastycznie zaśpiewane, świetnie zagrane i jeszcze brzmią znakomicie.
autor: Marek Dębski
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popMATTERS
There is nothing on Jolie Holland’s latest that matches the seductive, demurely jazz-tinged “Mehitabel’s Blues” or “Stubborn Beast” from 2006’s Springtime Can Kill You. But let’s be clear: there is nothing on that record to rival the heady rush of The Living and the Dead, a more straight-up country-rock record, but no less powerful for its leanness. Never a slouch, Holland demonstrates as convincingly as ever her playful yet solid command of Americana past and present as music to be lived in rather than just visited on a lark. From the opening bars of “Mexico City” to the giggle fits of closer “Enjoy Yourself”, The Living and the Dead sparkles and rarely missteps.
As per usual, the prime interest on the album is Holland’s voice, an idiosyncratic, knowing twang that bends vowels and swallows consonants. But somehow her pipes sound more restrained here, without losing any of their unique charm. On the M. Ward-abetted “Your Big Hands”, she’s a twitchier Lucinda Williams. Still capable of melting “told” into “taold” and “bird” into “baiord”, Holland sounds nonetheless comfortable in the song’s conservative arrangement, never swinging too wildly. The atmospheric “Fox in Its Hole” features shimmering Marc Ribot guitars, while a double-tracked lead vocal gently works up a melody reminiscent of “Wayfaring Stranger”, nodding to the past while remaining unmistakably current. Yet again, Holland sings in service of the song, nuanced without being overly precious or showy. And the songs themselves are gorgeous.
The Living and the Dead is concerned with no less than the grand theme of life and death, or at least with elevating every moment to its utmost importance. “Mexico City” is packed with characters, images, first-, second-, and third-person tenses. It’s cryptic and personal, but the lilting progressions are warm and inviting to the point that one is able to grasp wisps of significance in the shards of narrative possibly concerning an army surgeon back from the war: “My true love is fresh from the battlefield / Sewing up the dying and carting off the dead”. The mournful “The Future” begins bluntly, “Everything around here makes me sad” and unspools from there, a long thread of regret that culminates with a simple plea — “Come on and wake up with me” — that builds in import with each repetition. Holland pulls off lines and ideas that end up maudlin in others’ hands by her unique gift of sounding simultaneously focused and nonchalant. She offsets weighty moments with casual grace and magnifies mundane details into revelations.
The best example of this is how the line “Put my lipstick back on” is highlighted on the album’s finest track, the radiant “Palmyra”. After a slow building first verse, the song’s tension breaks on that image, ensuring that the emotional and visual facets of “Palmyra” are inextricably linked. When Holland sings “My little heart is a graveyard / It’s a no man’s land”, it’s a Day of the Dead mural, not simply a handy metaphor, so much so that the declarative and confessional, “And I wondered how I could do with you / How absurd / How absurd” almost sneaks by unnoticed. Almost. The band is loose but assured, buffeting Holland’s sighing and smiling melodies with twangy vigor on a song that loses nothing after countless listens.
Neither does the entire album for that matter. Its ten songs sweep by briskly in comparison to its languorous (yet lovely) predecessor. It’s a shade more rock and roll, an ounce more blunt, a great deal of fun, and it documents an increasingly confident artist wielding prime, unpretentious material.
By Michael Metivier

pitchfork.com
With guitar contributions from M. Ward and Marc Ribot, the fourth album from this Texas-born, New York-based singer-songwriter is both her most cohesive and most eclectic.
From the album's very opening-- with its unexpected and wholly sweet, McGuinn-ish twelve string guitar lines kicking in 20 seconds into the thing-- Jolie Holland's fourth album packs a full and commanding wallop. It's her strongest effort yet, a mini-manifesto on how to weld varied American sounds together and also fucking rock at the same time. This is the record to buy for your dad for his birthday, and then burn for yourself afterwards (hey, he already likes Sheryl Crow and Willie Nelson).
The 32-year-old Holland has worked very hard to get here. She's been this close to the cohesive greatness on display here a number of times. She helped to form the Be Good Tanyas a decade or so ago but left once it became clear that they had a more narrow (and more treacly) idea of what folk music is, just as they started to hit the top of the middle of the road. Holland's 2003 debut Catalpa, initially self-released and later put out on Anti-, had a pleasant living room aura and 27 years of great songs; it's easily among the best folk records of the last decade. Her two subsequent albums simultaneously embraced and rejected the idea of "folk," with varying results. Escondida, from 2004, had great songs and excellent players, but the arrangements were self-consciously old-timey, veering a touch too close to jazz-folk hokum. And on 2006's Springtime Can Kill You, it felt like there were too many ideas competing with each other.
Thanks in part to the able production work of Shahzad Ismaily, the problems of the past two records are a distant memory. There's a cohesiveness to this record that's stunning when one considers just how eclectic it is. "Love Henry" combines gently plucked trad guitar styles, slightly out-there guitar playing, and what's either a whistle or a singing saw, together with a dash of ethereal ambient whatsis behind a doubled vocal that intentionally sounds like it's coming from a big standalone tube radio. To do that shit in 2008 and not sound pretentious and cloying and "now playing at Starbucks" is a small miracle. The swamp cooler "Fox in Its Hole" has elements that might remind the listener of Tom Waits circa Swordfishtrombones, but this is only apparent if you think too much about it. M. Ward plays guitar on a few songs, alongside Holland herself and the ever-able Marc Ribot.
In "Mexico City" Holland intones, "I think about you Jack, watching the TV and drinking booze, shame on you." I imagine she's singing to Jack Kerouac, who published the book-length poem Mexico City Blues in 1959. If so, Holland should cut this sort of thing out. She's always spoken to ghosts in her music-- or at least says nice things about them. One of her best songs namechecks Isabelle Eberhardt and William S. Burroughs, while on another she sings "nobody plays guitar like Blind Willie McTell." Such dues-paying and earnest homage-making is charming from a brand-new artist and judicious from an elder one. But for an artist in the midst of her career, it feels a bit like a crutch.
Still, a few poorly chosen lyrics aren't much to complain about. I keep coming back to Holland's Texas phrasing, in which she stretches out the simplest words into more syllables than there are in the ingredients listed on the side of a soda can. And as appealing as that can sound, Holland only sings like that when the material calls for it. She's never been as in control of her voice, an incredible instrument that is as strong as it is attractive. And on The Living and the Dead, it's found just the right setting.
By Mike McGonigal

muzycy:
Jolie Holland – vocals, guitar, drum, fiddle, clapping, whistling, producer
M Ward – guitar, bass, producer
Shahzad Ismaily – bass, percussion, electric guitar, moog, shruthi box, robots, duck call, producer
Marc Ribot – guitar
Samantha Parton – harmonies
Garth Steel Klippert – trumpet
Colin Stetson – cornet
Marc Alan Goodman – clapping
Marika Hughes – cello
Kenny Wolleson – drums
Joel Hamilton – guitar
Rachel Blumberg – drums
Jim White – drums
Samantha Parton – vocals
Jenni Quilter – dishes

Producers: Jolie Holland and Shahzad Ismaily

utwory:
1. Mexico City
2. Corrido Por Buddy
3. Palmyra
4. You Painted Yourself In
5. Fox In Its Hole
6. Your Big Hands
7. Sweet Loving Man
8. Love Henry
9. The Future
10. Enjoy Yourself
11. Let's Get Together Now

wydano: Oct 9, 2008
more info: www.anti.com
more info2: www.jolieholland.com