A Spanner & Their Works

You're not really supposed to read these bits, this isn't actually a blog, by any meaningful definition.  Good, that's that sorted, then.

ANOHNI & THE JOHNSONS – MY BACK WAS A BRIDGE FOR YOU TO CROSS (Rough Trade)  

The highlight of Julian Schnabel’s film of Lou Reed performing the entirety of his classic album Berlin is the luminous vocal on 'Candy Says' by Antony (as ANOHNI was known at the time). At the end of a light and quavering but surprisingly sinewy reading, Reed holds ANOHNI with a long appreciative gaze, allowing a fraction of a smile to brush his lips - which for that uneffusive old boulder was the equivalent of a 21-gun salute. The respect between the two musicians is highlighted by 'Sliver Of Ice', which is based on one of the last conversation Reed had with ANOHNI, in which he told her of the beautiful intensity of elementary experiences at life’s end. As ANOHNI puts it, “the simplest sensations had begun to feel almost rapturous; a carer had placed a shard of ice on his tongue one day and it was such a sweet and unbelievable feeling that it caused him to weep with gratitude”.  Over the sort of warm jazzy haze, you might find in the Elysian Fields Holiday Inn, ANOHNI’s delicate croon captures the experience with Hemingway bluntness: “A taste of water on my tongue, it was cool, it was good”. 'Go Ahead', the track immediately preceding this, makes a sonic nod to Lou Reed, visceral squeals of guitar noise threatening to engulf a sparse stately clutch of chords. The vocals, a parody of rock which would feel far more at home over a NWOBHM canter than this NYC noise edifice, scamper with deliberate awkwardness across the top. No wonder the track lasts only 90 seconds, any longer and the tensions in the song might yank it apart.  

Despite this pairing, Lou Reed is far from this album’s primary reference point. Instead, ANOHNI’s strong but spindly voice, and many of the lush arrangements, will recall that breed of vintage soul vocalists who balance suave sophistication with gut-wrenching emotion: think Smokey Robinson, Al Gren and, especially Marvin Gaye. 'Why Am I Alive Now' captures the essence of Gaye’s classic, What’s Going On, the gorgeous syrupy vocals, the shimmering strings and the hazy vibraphone managing to communicate cosy safety and self-critical uncertainty at once. 

ANOHNI’s voice has always been a glorious thing, with the lopsided, stumbling beauty of an hours-old foal or a butterfly slowly unfurling from the cocoon, but My Back Was A Bridge For You To Cross is filled with lovely complementary arrangements, like the tiny flute phrases in 'Can’t' that melt away like ice on the tongue. The track has flavours of the well-bred soul of the 90s, urbane if not quite urban, and one might draw a line to Erykah Badu, D’Angelo, and even McAlmont & Butler...if you really get creative, 'Can’t' sounds like a slowed down and hollowed out version of Hue & Cry’s burnished yuppie pop. And just to prove that her voice is not just very pretty but also malleable, on 'Scapegoat' ANOHNI’s lines fracture as they drift into the distance like Horace Andy’s, and two registers appear to be in conversation on 'It’s My Fault', as on Cat Stevens’s 'Father & Son' (and the opening line “I didn’t do it, but I know that I did something wrong” seems to paint ANOHNI as the direct inverse of Shaggy). 

Divas and talent show judges spend whole careers selling the concept of “good” singing, a dead-eyed and lead-footed virtuosity which flattens all compositions and makes a mockery of interpreting a lyric. Although there are a couple of songs on this album which don’t set up camp in your memory, the vocals always astonish, from the sound of Jeff Buckley floating on a soul bisque on 'It Must Change' to the greasy gospel crescendo of 'Rest'. There’s one moment in this track where ANOHNI phrases the word “stone” in the zen-like line “Rest like a stone waits for the sun” with a micro-melisma, slingshotting swiftly across three notes: the phrasing is gorgeous, but it’s neither self-conscious nor showy, just a tiny perfect moment.  Lou Reed would doubtless give it a barely perceptible but heartfelt nod.