Label: Rough Trade
Release date: 30/08/10
Link: Official Site
For whatever reason,
Antony and the Johnsons seem to be a divisive band. I say âfor whatever reasonâ because all signs point to this project being massively popular â major critical notice and affection, popular and avant-garde endorsements, and illustrious collaborations (like his work on Björkâs last LP). But when the voice delivering these otherwise critically acclaimed compositions and lyrics has a tendency to warble wildly, akin to a Marc Bolan for the darkest of chamber pop, suddenly the true division is seen. With their new
Thank You For Your Love EP, Mr. Hegarty and his cast of musicians seem bent on fulfilling the needs of diehards who want a fix while quelling the naysayer with some surprising touches and choices that seem to hint at a final development of the bandâs style.
Immediately notable is the pure use of dynamics and stylistic shift that really does shock the song to life, making the title track jump from a sombre ballad to a Motown-esque horn jam with some very clever and classy vocal additions. All in all, this song seems to be a response to previous singles like âAeonâ and âEpilepsy Is Dancing,â focusing more on active shifts instead of three to seven minute ruminations on the subject at hand. While the main draw is that pure energy and liveliness that shows a conscious move, the lyrics are deceptively simple and earnest â utilizing simple repetition to let the music really speak. Shame that âYou Are My Treasureâ and âMy Lord My Loveâ abandons that idea to give us some typical fare. This is hardly a complaint or even anger, for âMy Lord My Loveâ actually has some of Antonyâs best melisma work on record. Hell, he sounds just plain impassioned and yearning in these songs. For all the happiness and conclusion that a phrase like, âThank you for your loveâ carries, the pure antithesis of âYou are the treasure, you are the dream, you are the one I have been waiting forâ is shocking. No more I love youâs, instead this is looking for the treasure while placing and praising it pre-emotively.
Really where this EP loses points (and boy, it drops âem like flies) are the covers that fuck up the B-side. Dylanâs âPressing Onâ has never sounded as lugubrious and forced as here, Antony almost forcing the arrangement to be as anti-Dylan as possible while sounding like Antony. Mild vibraphone, acoustic bass, acoustic guitar, and Hegarty front and center all combine to really just create a lullaby. Itâs sub par Sam Amidon (only from his second disc on, that pre-Muhly debut doesnât count this time), what with the music sounding like it was taken from Amidonâs version of âReliefâ then slowed down and run through the Modernity Machine. Oh, and now hereâs my flame fodder:
There has never been a good cover of âImagineâ. Ok, A Perfect Circle actually did the song some justice (but Maynard is to thank), but think about it â Glee (with a fucking deaf choir), Avril Lavigne, Jack Johnson, Gregorian (yes, the chanting monks), and some dude from American Idol have all raped this beautiful tune in their own ways with about a dozen other popular artists and millions of shitty amateurs with acoustic guitars who idolize Lennonâs genius. Antony here makes it a song with shifting focus, primarily first person but with breaks in the right places to really speak to the listenerâ¦or some crap like that. Seriously, with just acoustic guitar and some ambience/feedback/Basinski-for-idiots over the vocal track, it sounds like a bedroom demo. Nothing here is worth noting or caring about, no matter how good Pitchfork says this cover is. Words cannot express how bored and unmoved I was by the end of the 4â36â that is this song. It is a waste of zeroes and ones as far as Iâm concerned.
Yes, if Antony continues to go like the first three (stellar) songs here, the next album will be a work of art. As a person who actually likes Antonyâs voice and the delicate chamber music around it, this really does gear me up for whateverâs next. Iâll just delete those last two songs and pretend they never really happened. Or Iâll turn to Dirty Projectors for my warbly voiced Dylan covers.