The New Classics #38: Ys, Joanna Newsom

Title: Ys
Artist: Joanna Newsom
Year: 2006
Label: Drag City

Let's set one thing straight: there isn't any other remotely high-profile musician like Joanna Newsom. People like here aren't supposed to escape their local coffee shop. For starters, the main instrument in her music is the harp. Last I checked, the ranks of highly acclaimed harpists in popular music were pretty damn thin. Then there are her lyrics, full of abstract imagery, extended metaphors and plenty of multisyllabic goodness. Finally, there's "the voice." Mewling and childlike, Newsom's voice isn't one you easily forget. Not unlike Björk, Newsom's voice requires a certain level of dedication and patience before listeners can really acclimate to it. However, she's certainly doing something right. The critics can't get enough of her music and her fans rival Radiohead's when it comes to sheer, starry-eyed zeal and devotion. Of the two albums she released this past decade, 2006's Ys is definitely the favorite, representing this fascinating, singular musician within the canon of new music.

Ys (pronounced "ees" and named after a mythical, sunken city) is quite odd, even by the loose standards of independent music. Although it only contains five tracks, Ys is almost a full hour in length, meaning each song is an expansive, sprawling epic. The songs themselves feature Newsom's harp playing, complemented by strings arranged by Van Dyke Parks, who worked with Brian Wilson on the Beach Boys' failed Smile project. There are no drums, minimal percussion and only a bit of guitar to taste. All things considered, Ys is closer to chamber music than indie rock or even the poorly defined "freak folk" genre it got lazily grouped into. This is grand, intricate music, highlighting the characteristics that differentiate Newsom from virtually all her peers. (One odd piece of trivia: Newsom's harp and vocals were recorded by alterna-icon/card-carrying curmudgeon Steve Albini. You can't exactly tell just by listening.)

So, what are these five songs actually about? Well, that's the million dollar question now, isn't it? After digging through the lyrics and repeatedly listening, I can't say I'm exactly sure. More important than actual meanings is the general mood and atmosphere associated with each song. The opening "Emily," named for Newsom's sister, seems dominated by a sense of distance, with lines like "come on home, the poppies are all grown knee-deep by now" and "the meteoroid is a bone thrown from the void that lies quiet in offering to thee." As long as these songs are, the truly staggering thing is that Newsom's lyrics continue, verse after verse, for these songs' entire running lengths. There are no extended instrumental breaks or intros plumping these songs up. The lyrics are just ridiculously dense and involved. "Monkey & Bear" probably has the clearest narrative, featuring the titular couple and the ensuing betrayal of the coniving monkey. Yet, it can simultaneously be read as an elaborate faerie tale and as a deeper commentary on a relationship between actual people.

Some of the best moments on Ys are poignant and sad. The gentle "Sawdust & Diamonds" concerns (among other things) a dove who "with your pliers and glue" is essentially taxidermied. But when the dove coos "hold me close" and Newsom reveals that the dove is "stuffed now with sawdust and diamonds," it seems like the most tragic thing in the world. The harp, as an instrument, is absurdly well-suited to these soft-yet-weepy moments. The opening to "Cosmia" is my favorite instrumental sequence on the album, evoking feelings of longing even before Newsom brings it back at the song's end, repeatedly singing "I miss your precious heart." It's these very powerful emotions, seeping through the literate lyrics and density, that keep Ys and Newsom's other music from becoming nothing more than weird, art-music curiosities. Despite paying almost no concessions to established conventions of popular music, Joanna Newsom has delivered some of the most touching songs of the decade. A bit of work is required to comprehend them, but, trust me, it's worth it.

Next up on The New Classics: Arular, M.I.A.