Artist: Antony And The Johnsons
Album: The Crying Light
Year: 2009
Grade: 5 pretzels
Antony Hegarty has a voice that begs for elaborate, imaginative metaphors. “His voice is the purest sunshine, piercing the grey clouds that surround him,” blah blah blah. So, instead of falling all over myself trying to adequately describe his absolutely unique style, I will show you, with a gorgeous video.
“The Voice” is obviously the most attention-grabbing element of Antony And The Johnsons. Vibrato-heavy and positively bursting with sadness, longing and vulnerability, Antony’s voice alone would be worth praise. However, the greatest, subtlest strength of his records lies in the musicians Antony has chosen to back him. Nowhere is this more evident than on The Crying Light, an absolutely astonishing follow-up to 2005’s Mercury Prize-winning I Am A Bird Now. It amazes me that 2009 has started off with two masterful records (this and Animal Collective) that are essentially polar opposites. As opposed to Animal Collective’s dense, colorful and life-affirming soundscapes, the songs on The Crying Light are as fragile as crystal and incredibly intimate.
The album’s MVP is Maxim Moston’s aching violin, which takes on a much larger role than on previous Antony releases, although I cannot understand why it took Antony this long to incorporate the violin this much. The violin is clearly the saddest of all instruments and the sound matches his voice perfectly, showcased on the last minute of “Her Eyes Are Underneath The Ground”. Standout track “Daylight And The Sun” is also driven by the violin and cello, ominously introducing the song with a dark, sawing melody before Antony’s voice arrives and does the rest.
As for the lyrics, Antony’s continues the gender-role confusion seen on I Am A Bird Now. He always paints himself as the passive party, asking someone else to do something, or hoping something will happen. It flies in the face of more traditional, proactive masculine songwriting, but, y’know, Antony ain’t exactly the most masculine guy around. Being gender-specific doesn’t seem to matter in his music or his life; he’s simply Antony, no more, no less.
A few songs seem to focus specifically on the future. “Another World” particularly seems worried about what lies ahead, declaring “I need another world, this one’s nearly gone.” It’s tempting to read a strong political message into much of what Antony says here, but the song works just as well as a personal goodbye, even as a quasi-suicide note (“I’m gonna miss you all”). There’s an undeniable darkness creeping throughout these songs, a note of fear (being played on the violin, if notes of fear can be played) that pervades even the most positive songs here. But, at the end of the day, it’s Antony’s magical voice that cuts through the darkness, shining hopefully into tomorrow.
“The Voice” is obviously the most attention-grabbing element of Antony And The Johnsons. Vibrato-heavy and positively bursting with sadness, longing and vulnerability, Antony’s voice alone would be worth praise. However, the greatest, subtlest strength of his records lies in the musicians Antony has chosen to back him. Nowhere is this more evident than on The Crying Light, an absolutely astonishing follow-up to 2005’s Mercury Prize-winning I Am A Bird Now. It amazes me that 2009 has started off with two masterful records (this and Animal Collective) that are essentially polar opposites. As opposed to Animal Collective’s dense, colorful and life-affirming soundscapes, the songs on The Crying Light are as fragile as crystal and incredibly intimate.
The album’s MVP is Maxim Moston’s aching violin, which takes on a much larger role than on previous Antony releases, although I cannot understand why it took Antony this long to incorporate the violin this much. The violin is clearly the saddest of all instruments and the sound matches his voice perfectly, showcased on the last minute of “Her Eyes Are Underneath The Ground”. Standout track “Daylight And The Sun” is also driven by the violin and cello, ominously introducing the song with a dark, sawing melody before Antony’s voice arrives and does the rest.
As for the lyrics, Antony’s continues the gender-role confusion seen on I Am A Bird Now. He always paints himself as the passive party, asking someone else to do something, or hoping something will happen. It flies in the face of more traditional, proactive masculine songwriting, but, y’know, Antony ain’t exactly the most masculine guy around. Being gender-specific doesn’t seem to matter in his music or his life; he’s simply Antony, no more, no less.
A few songs seem to focus specifically on the future. “Another World” particularly seems worried about what lies ahead, declaring “I need another world, this one’s nearly gone.” It’s tempting to read a strong political message into much of what Antony says here, but the song works just as well as a personal goodbye, even as a quasi-suicide note (“I’m gonna miss you all”). There’s an undeniable darkness creeping throughout these songs, a note of fear (being played on the violin, if notes of fear can be played) that pervades even the most positive songs here. But, at the end of the day, it’s Antony’s magical voice that cuts through the darkness, shining hopefully into tomorrow.
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