(2009)
It’s hard to understand Patrick Wolf without first understanding Angela Carter. Angela Carter, the magical realist author from Great Britain whose stories centered around fairy tales retold with a sexually deviant, macabre sense of humour, and feminist sensibilities conjure up gruesome as well as sublime imagery. The same can be said for Patrick Wolf, whose indie record label, Bloody Chamber Music, is appropriated from Carter’s anthology of short fiction of the same title.
Wolf, who began his musical career in his early teens as a way of escaping the bullying he encountered in school as a young eccentric has long been dipping his proverbial paintbrush into the realms of the gruesome as well as the sublime. He built his own Theremin when he was fourteen, at sixteen became a street urchin busker with an in-your-face music art project, Minty, with direct ties to Leigh Bowery, himself a legend in the world of edgy performance art, all by the age of eighteen respectively. His first album, Lycanthropy released in 2003 on Faith and Industry/Tomlab, was recorded over a period of eight years and dealt with wide ranging subject matter such as loneliness, alienation, rejection (Bloodbeat), molestation at the hands of an older man (The Childcatcher, arguably the most disturbing of any of his catalogue with graphic lyrics describing the seduction and rape of presumably himself as a teenage boy), and the freedom of roving cities and streets found in "London" and "Paris". Wind in the Wires, released in 2005 via Tomlab was more of a bucolic swing towards freak folk and Cornish idylls. The Libertine recalled the decadent life of the city juxtaposed to The Railway House or Teignmouth dealing more with the connection between land, sea, and isolation. Next, was Wolf’s major label debut, The Magic Position, released on Universal/Loog. This featured a strong departure from his earlier work towards more pop-oriented sensibilities. Following the release of The Magic Position, Wolf could be spotted on everything from The Charlotte Church Show singing a duet with the ingénue herself of Princes’ When Doves Cry, appearing on an episode of Never Mind The Buzzcocks, and performing wickedly cracked-out performances for American audiences on The David Letterman Show and Late Night with Conan O’Brian. In addition to this, he toured nearly constantly, opening for the likes of Mika, who Wolf famously labeled "a twat" via MySpace.
Wolf broke ties with Universal shortly after The Magic Position world tour. Wolf, from all accounts, had grown weary and disillusioned with the constant attempts of the major label to mold him into a pop commodity. In addition to this, he had a vastly different vision of himself for his next album, originally a two disc epic entitled Battle based on his experiences touring the world supporting The Magic Position, namely focusing on giant themes of war, apathy, and the state of the world. Going against the grain, he set up his own label Bloody Chamber Music, which he had originally created in order to collect in one place his digital back-catalogue of music. He also engaged the use of Bandstocks, a system which allows artists and music fans to share in the production of an album. Through private investors who donate or buy a share in stocks of the album the investments go towards raising the monies necessary to produce and market the album. In return for this, Wolf (who has always been notably active in his relationship with his particularly devoted fan base) has offered special freebies and discounts in a way of showing his appreciation for their contributions.
The Bachelor starts out with a sonic burst of decadence called Kriegspiel (German for ‘war game’) which instantly reminded me of the THX : The audience is listening intro at movie theatres in the 90s. On a digressive note, there was an episode of The Simpsons which mocks the THX promo after which Grandpa Simpson screams, "Turn it up !" Perhaps he would have a similar reaction towards The Bachelor ? Just a thought. Hard Times kicks off with fuzzy blips mixed seamlessly with string arrangements in an up-beat, in-your-face launch on the state of society’s present condition by declaring the will to power on with your personal passions despite being beaten down by the "hard times" brought on from the last decade stating, "Forced to count the hours / Since two towers / Fell to fiction". The video of the same song strikes an instant resonance with the type of world created by Klaus Nomi in his videos from the early 1980s (especially Nomi Song) , featuring Patrick as a severe, bilious demented Master of Ceremonies with an upswept swoop of hair in a neon, space-age black velvet painting of a room surrounded by postmodern backing drummers. In a similar vain to Bjork’s Declare Independence, the song urges those with original thoughts, opinions, and persuasions to fight against the norm of mediocrity and to revolt, working harder against the grain. Upon initial response, this description might urge some eyes to roll, but after listening to this a bit more and then going back to listening to Bjork’s Declare Independence I have come to feel that literal, "hard times", sometimes call for literal lyrical bold statements ; especially from those otherwise marginalized and equally so for those who listen to those peoples’ music.
Oblivion recounts falling down into a shameful spiral towards rock bottom, complete with "the voice of hope" (according to Wolf), Tilda Swinton, admonishing our bachelor to get back up and knock the dick out of his mouth (to quote Kathy Griffin). Well, ya know, The Voice of Hope says that in so many words…
Title track, The Bachelor, starts off with sounds reminiscent of a Celtic fiddle giving the impression of a sort of harvest time festival. The song itself is explores the belief that The Bachelor will never be married or in love with anyone with "no one to wear my silver ring". Wolf has stated in the past that he came to create The Bachelor in part from the pre-Stonewall term of being "a confirmed bachelor" as a euphemism for being gay. The sounds created by the opening alone instantly bring to mind warm coloured autumn leaves and cider. On a personal note (as my reviews usually tend to evolve towards… my apologies… it’s just how I roll), whenever I hear this song I instantly think of one of my favourite programmes as a child about Raggedy Ann and Andy involving some sort of skateboarding Sad Jack-O-Lantern Pumpkin, I believe. Upon further investigation, it is called Raggedy Ann and Andy : The Pumpkin Who Couldn’t Smile. I mean this with the utmost respect, don’t get me wrong. That Halloween special about Raggedy Ann and Andy helped to mold my aesthetic. I would sincerely hope that Mr. Wolf would share my feelings on this.
Damaris continues on in a swell of string arrangements, deep bells, and a backing chorus. Thickets is a sort of sad bastard litany of how "pale and deathly" he’s become set to a background of poignant string arrangements (yet again). It is a song about being ground down to the bone inside, but tends to lean a bit heavily towards the maudlin and self-pitying slightly more than to my liking. I understand the need to exercise these kinds of demons completely, but I question as to how the choice of the lyrics and this song could have even made it onto this album. It seems a bit amateurish and under-developed. It would totally work as a B-side release, but I have my doubts as to its place on this album. The same could be said for a handful of songs that seem to more or less express the same themes without any resolution to be made further along. In my heart, I feel that some choices needed to be made on this record that weren’t made and its worst enemy is itself. Had some songs been scaled back, rethought, or possibly omitted, the ones that remained would have gained that much more strength, conviction, and depth. Thickets is a very good example of this, as the singer questions "What have I become ?", using beautiful lyrical imagery of pale wasteland flowers and thickets growing up around him by means of illustrating this sense of isolation and sorrow. I am nearly transported to this melancholic, lonely place. Almost. If even so much as if one word had been taken out, it would have made this song incredible. If perhaps the song right before it (Damascus) had been omitted altogether, this song would have hit with double the resonance.
Count of Casualty begins with a beautiful rhythm of low-fi tech blips, and then rambles off with the message for young countrymen to WAKE UP. And then it ends as promisingly as it begins. The blips just become background noise and the singer takes on a preachy tone questioning the young of a morally deprived country (i.e. The United States) to wake themselves out of stagnation and take note of what is going on around them. A backing chorus of "whoas and oooh’s" just further adds to the dramatic over-the-topness of the song. It simply just seems to fall apart. Who Will lays in with a sensitive organ solo, questioning who will penetrate the tight muscles of his heart and who could attempt to love someone so undeserving of it. The melody is a lovely mixture of keyboard and organ, slightly reminiscent of Wolfs’ Wind in the Wires era in its simplicity and straight-forwardness, not to mention its honesty. The backing chorus does not overtake, it adds to the sorrow of the songs’ theme.
Vulture is a straight-up solid, industrial/early dark techno dance anthem with a thick driving bass and a crunchy, irresistible beat. The song itself deals with the satanic debauchery of too much, too soon. When it breaks into "the big wheels turn turn", it is nearly impossible not to throw a spontaneous Party Monster inspired rave-out. Not everyone, however, is sold on this diabolic incarnation of The Bachelor character, especially after seeing (the intentionally ?) low-budget snuff porn quality video that came out for it. Upon viewing it, my best friend Ryen (who is homosexual and went through his own Emcee in Cabaret phase during our colligate Cabaret Clothes era in which we dressed up in skimpy, distressed vintage underwear and hung out on the porch of our co-op drinking vodka tonics in what must have only resembled a brothel run by theatre geeks and hippie Green Party Members) commented, "this video makes me feel ashamed to be gay". Voilà. It’s not for everyone. It might make you horny, it might make you angry, it might make you laugh, and it might make you loathe your sexual orientation. Different strokes for different folks, man. There even exists a bit of Echo & The Bunnymen synth and keyboards coming out like a spooky Halloweeny burst of energy. Tim Curry’s character in The Worst Witch would totally approve.
Blackdown is a song reaching out to the singer’s father as well as his familial background. It is a personal song that obviously either touches or does not, but I feel that I have no room to judge on it due to the nature of its subject matter. The arrangement is gorgeous, swelling, and grandiose. Pitch perfect. The only two cents I can give is that it should be virtually forbidden to ever use the word "thee" in a contemporary song. I don’t care if you’re writing in the voice of a bisexual Italian Castrato from 15th century Venice. You can’t do this and I don’t allow you too. When I create my own fascist dystopian kingdom, this law will be officially put in place.
The Sun Is Often Out, in my opinion, is one of the strongest pieces on the album. It is a song dedicated to a friend of Wolf’s named Stephen who committed suicide by throwing himself into the Thames. Wolf mentions flowers in the water in memory of Stephen. He questions the intention and the pain of his friend at his darkest hour. He is reminded of something off-hand his friend once said to him, which is, "the sun is often out". The narrator sits by the river and contemplates his own dark intentions and how he had once been in the same exact place himself. The chorus placing feels so right in this and hits in that deep pit reserved for regret and memory of loss. He asks, "was your work of art so heavy that it would not let you live ?" as one final question before dropping his flowers into the river and continuing on with his own life.
The Sun Is Often Out is the backbone, as well as the narrative arch in the album and with the advent of Theseus ; the tone begins to shift from one of despair and darkness to one of questioning and starting over, despite the insatiable urge for more. Battle is an agro-pseudo industrial rave-up of crusty anarchist angst. Something I would have loved to have blasted from my stereo and slam-danced to in my bedroom in high school.
The Messenger ends on an uplifting note, disrobing the dank debauchery of his past and going towards a more hopeful and wondrous existence. Shrugging off defeat and the judgment of others, the narrator seeks out the open road of possibility rather than stagnation.
Despite the moments of crystal clear earnestness and heartache, this album leaves me feeling locked out of a party I don’t feel cool enough to attend. Instead of these songs becoming something relatable they come off as preachy, pretentious, and worst of all self-pitying. I realise Wolf has been through a lot in his 26 years on the planet, but others have survived worse gulags. Everything is dealt with so literally from start to finish that it just leaves me feeling personally flat and apathetic to the message he was trying to convey. What comes from hours of passionate outpourings in private journals does not always equal a quality means to an end. I don’t see the depth of his earlier work, not even that which could be found in certain songs from The Magic Position. Instead this album relies on extreme juxtapositions. Everything is black or white. The same message is repeated over and over again ad nauseum when in some cases if different choices had been made, would have created an incredibly moving and profound result. The album feels half-finished and in some places barely thought out, in other places incredibly over-done. I hate to say it, but to me it doesn’t succeed in what it’s trying to achieve. This is a pity because Patrick Wolf is a hell of an artist, with an enormous amount of talent, and an incredible range of inspiration, styles, and sounds.
I by no means wish to write-off Wolf or to belittle his attempts. I just would like to see better from him and I’m afraid in order to see this a bit of ego and pretension needs to be stripped away and more focus needs to be paid to the human experience versus the Patrick Wolf experience. And who’s to say that the two should not be as one ? Just because you’re eccentric and unique does not mean that your experiences are as well. In fact, the most eccentric and unique amongst us tend to be the ones to touch on the pathos of the human experience most personally. Tom Waits anyone ? This being said, no artist should be expected to please their public. I in no way expect Patrick Wolf to please my own tastes. Sometimes artists just need to do what they need to do for themselves. This is Patrick Wolf exercising his demons and I hope it was cathartic and profound for him. As an outside observer, it leaves me feeling a little cold and that is fine. Fair enough. Overall, I adore the land of Patrick Wolfs’ imagination and I look forward to visiting it again in the future…just as long as there’s a place in it available for me to sit down and enjoy.