Ys

JOANNA NEWSOMYS

Never in my life have I heard an album even remotely similar to Joanna Newsom’s sophomore album, Ys, and, frankly, I don’t recall ever wanting to. After noticing the hummingbird buzz and seeing the angelic cover art I figured I should at least give it a try. Newsom’s previous album, Milk Eyed Mender, to me, was little more than some decent coffee shop poetry streaked with a wretched voice.

Upon getting Ys home I immediately wanted to examine the accompanying book to assure myself that everyone that was rumored to have worked on the album actually did; really though, I stalled because I was scared. The book simply wouldn’t work. This makes sense, naturally, because the three spined edges hit consumer’s hands coated in gold. Real gold, similar to an older book some folks call The Bible. Clearly, much care was taken when putting together the impressively presented Ys, and I was intrigued. After seeing that all of my behind-the-scenes heroes were accounted for, I put the disc in my good ol’ Sony boombox (I’ve always held the snobby belief that “real” music enthusiasts have the worst stereos, clothes, haircuts and such because they save all their money for albums and concerts).

“What’s going on?” I thought to myself. Ys is either from an alternative universe or from the future, I’m not sure, but, again, it’s certainly not like anything I’d ever heard before – not even Newsom’s own Mender misstep. The oddball factor doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s good, per se, but it does make for some good, healthy dissecting.

The first thing you notice when listening to a Newsom recording is her voice. Childlike, Newsom seems like the kind of person that was raised by urban mystics (post hippies, if you will), allowed only to read The Lord of the Rings, The Bible and other such mythological tales. Elfish, even.

Eventually her voice – more importantly her ability to use her voice in unthinkable ways – will get to listeners, but again, there’s nothing to compare it to. Also, Ys features no percussion, one or two guitar licks and a whole lot of harp, Newsom’s instrument of choice. In fact, Newsom writes her highly literate, always poetic (albeit, in a girl-on-her-bed-dreaming sort of way) long-form compositions on the Lyon & Healy Style II pedal harp.

How did this all work out, you ask? How can an elfish beauty tell tales of simple childish fears in poetic tones using a language – both obscure and obvious – and actually make it listenable? (Keep in mind that the song lengths range from 7-16 minutes each.) Enter Team Newsom: one of the best you’re likely to find. Famous for his work with The Beach Boys is Van Dyke Parks, the man responsible for all of Ys’ lush, expansive, intricate orchestral arrangements. Next is famed producer Steve Albini, who recorded and directed all of Newsom’s unimaginable vocal and harp work. And last but not least is the man with the golden ears often credited with crafting Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot mess into a landmark recording for it’s time, Jim O’Rourke, who mixed down these five dense songs, more or less making sense of them. So, basically, that’s how it happened. It pays to have connections.

At the forefront of Team Newsom, though, is Joanna, the pixie brainchild of the bunch. With ideas and themes too strange and complex to explain in 700 or so words, Newsom makes no compromises with her vision. These five long, mini-folk operas dance through fields, spin through consciousness and explore the feminine mind in ways so unpredictable that listeners with open minds will, if nothing else, leave their time spent with Ys feeling impressed. Maybe even blown away.

Certainly, Ys is not for everyone – or, really, hardly anyone – from this day and age, but that shouldn’t stop curious minds from taking the gold-coated bait. Both a nod to simpler times with its visual lyrics and a peak into the future with its progressive arrangement ideas and otherworldly train of thought, Ys, against all odds, works. And for that, it’s amazing. Good luck to the adventurous, this might be the first and only futuristic folk album you’ll find.  10/10

Written by G. William Locke