As we accumulate and grow with new life experiences, our taste and preferences often change as well. Among many things, COVID-19 has certainly altered my recreational music listening habits (frequently, and more active!). While I remain fiercely devoted to many of the artists, albums, songs and pieces that make up the soundtrack of years past, it is both fun and incredibly rewarding to discover and rediscover music that I, for any number of reasons, glossed over the first time around. All this to say that it took me, sadly, until now to delve into the goldmine that is Joanna Newsom’s Ys.
Joanna Newsom’s music can be daunting upon first listen. Hers is a voice of unique timbre, and while perhaps not traditionally soothing, once you have embraced it, none other will work for her songs. A true wordsmith, her lyrics are often dense in both substance and meaning, requiring multiple, active listenings to sort out just the words alone, and even more to arrive at an understanding. Her sophomore album, Ys (2006), contains only five songs….the shortest some 7+ minutes, and the longest clocking in at almost 17. Such timings are usually found on a classical album, and in fact, Ys is symphonic in more ways than one.
From a sonic standpoint, the album is, simply put, gorgeous. Each of the five songs on Ys features Joanna’s harp melodies interwoven within the rich tapestry that is a full supporting orchestra (scored by iconic producer Van Dyke Parks). The lengths of the songs are never indulgent; as I follow the melody’s journey across each track, noting the occasional electric bass or accordion line popping out among the texture of lush strings and winds, it is apparent that the complexity of form and meaning necessitates the need for such long-form structure. Similar to substantial classical works, many of these songs contain embedded B and C themes that are hauntingly beautiful, rewarding the listeners for their attention and dedication to the adventure. If nothing else, the lyrics themselves are impressive. With no repeating stanzas, each song is a fleshed out story, speckled with themes of love, loss, and human existence. Like any powerful novel or piece of music, Ys leaves a tangible presence that will remain with listeners well after the final note has sounded.
I did not expect to focus fully on all 55 minutes of Ys during my initial listen; some three hours and consecutive playbacks later, my jaw remained on the proverbial floor, bowed down to the album’s sheer artistry. And that is what sums up Ys for me: art that is unapologetic and staunchly firm in its essence. It may sound “outdated” for some, but if style is all about confidence and staying in your own lane, then Joanna Newsom has plenty to burn for sometime yet.
N.B. “Only Skin” from Ys, live. As a harpist, I can only imagine how difficult this is: frequently changing patterns at a good clip, pedal changes, SO many words…not to mention by memory!