Joanna Newsom: Ys
By Shayne Harris
For those individuals unfamiliar with the antics and escapades of child-like composer/harpist Joanna Newsom, her album Ys can procure a startling first impression. While not wholly dissimilar to her previous album The Milk-Eyed Mender, the form and deliverance of Ys adds a richness of intent and a sumptuous musical texture to the ears of a modern, more commercially-inclined listener. Yet it is neither the beautifully laid orchestral parts written by Van Dyke Parks, or even the sheer length of the works which is most impressive. The descriptive and evocative lyrics supplied by Newsom allow us to enter each of the five tracks in this 55-minute album as a separate piece of one big puzzle filled with different characters, meanings and colours.
At times it is quite hard to understand what Newsom is actually singing about, whether it be because the phrase structure is aligned more to the melody than the text, or because at times the inflection of her voice is somewhat puzzling and we lose ourselves in the audible experience which draws us in. However upon closer inspection you are immersed in the story Newsom is explaining and cannot help but wonder at what she means by singing about the three states of a meteor, or why there is a recurring theme of water. Newsom, in an interview with Rob Young for The Wire Magazine, admitted to the opulence she affords in this album,
“It’s a tone that’s voluntary - it needs to be a prerequisite for allowing myself to write songs in a way that they came about for this record, but it was also an aesthetic choice - for example I wanted the presence of an orchestra, the cover art, which took my friend a year to make, I wanted there to be an opulence and a level of detail and care that was really consistent throughout.”
And consistent it is. Akin to a modern indie-folk song cycle, Ys affords the listener a rare chance at listening to a complete work, one that has been thoroughly thought out, where each individual part brings in a different colour and character to the bigger picture.
Filled with allegories and begging for interpretation, Newsom’s true meanings are hidden from the listener and are embedded in both music and lyric. The lengthy text does not seem to drag or strain for your attention, but commands and guides it with interweaving rhythmic features and nuances provided by both harp and orchestra. If the undulating turns of melody and the descriptive backdrop of the orchestra do not have you trying to hum along to the entwinement of melodic ideas, the use of strikingly powerful verbs will make you prick your ears and listen to where the story will take you next.
With “Emily” and “Sawdust and Diamonds” on the top of my Joanna list, Ys affords the individual a blissful hour of musical escapism into a world rich and diverse, where it’s tour guide will let you drift upon a breeze of soothing harp and give you an adventure like no other. Intimately descriptive and more real and honest than any pop song out at the moment, Newsom’s work is definitely one reality some will beg to hold onto and one which others will never wish to.