Veröffentlicht
Jun 24, 2009
- It's probably fair to say that many of RA's readers (and writers) probably know Cortney Tidwell from Ewan Pearson's masterful Objects in Space take on the title cut from the Nashville-based songwriter's debut, Don't Let Stars Keep Us Tangled Up. And I'll be honest: that ain't a bad place to start. But it sure isn't the whole story either. Besides guesting on Sideshow's propulsive, if slightly less cosmic, "Television" on Aus earlier this year, Tidwell's made a quiet name for herself as a distinctive vocal stylist—a little swooner, a little heartsore wailer—working within a diverse sonic playground. Her 2006 debut melded alt-Americana with shoegaze, wide-eyed dream-pop and moments of slow, sifting discord into a woozy psychedelic mash that still seemed distinctly Nashville. In essence, for all its wistful alterations of classic Americana, Stars was just an excellent alt-pop record.
For her City Slang follow-up, Boys, Tidwell turns out another deft assembly of genre-splicings that will again, sadly, probably fail to turn as many heads as it should. Though not much of a sonic detour from her debut, Tidwell still manages to explore a few new contours; she's more brash and quarrelsome—with guitars that spark more than sparkle—and in her downier moods, more reliant on electronics to temper her heartbreak.
In fact, whether or not it's inherited from her crossover dance hit, Boys sometimes feels almost floor-sweaty. With its plush synths and blocky drum charge, "Watusii" resembles one of Bat for Lashes' latest Kate Bush gallops (a resemblance I was slow to discern until Josh Love pointed it out in his Pitchfork review). "So We Sing" swaps out synths for brawny guitars, but leaves the hectic heart-race pace intact, while with scarred guitars and pounding piano, "17 Horses" is Tidwell's most assaultive creation to date, three-plus minutes of scabrous chug-along punk.
But Tidwell is still most striking when wounded, and Boys is best when tracing her bruises. "Oh, China" and "Solid State" allow Tidwell's voice plenty of space to explore lustrous keys and moonlit guitar shades. And it's always interesting to hear the paths she tracks when given the room; she seems to curl around moments of hush and unwind on ascent, and when she shakes off this delicacy, you sense her potency as a vocalist. Atop pattering beats and smeary electronica, both "Son & Moon" and "Bad News" pulse with the wonder and child-like drowse of a Traum cut, while the cheekily-titled "Being Crosby"—a duet with My Morning Jacket's Jim James—recalls the fuzzbrain narcosis of its namesake (note: not the "White Christmas" dude). The track's restrained and patient: simply lazy-day acoustic guitar and these two big, mountain-top voices. As I mentioned, the voice can't be overlooked; though certainly a talented songwriter, Tidwell's great remix fodder for another reason entirely. As ""Oh, Suicide" closes Boys in a hazy twilight stroll reprise of "So We Sing," there's a lone point of focus in its wash of reverb: Tidwell herself, again moving from first-love shy to two-divorce cagey in six-and-a-half blurry minutes.
Tracklist 01. Solid State
02. Watusii
03. Son & Moon
04. Being Crosby
05. Oslo
06. So We Sing
07. Palace
08. Bad News
09. Oh, China
10. 17 Horses
11. Oh, Suicide