dnevniknestajanja

četvrtak, 24.12.2009.

The World Won't Listen

Čitajući popise najboljih glazbenih izdanja na internetu (često i prenesene preglede različitih publikacija) uočavam izostanak ili marginalizaciju albuma The Crying Light skupine Antony and the Johnsons.
Iako se radi o najkompleksnijem radu u opusu izvođača, čini mi se da je odgovor u samoj prirodi ovog djela. Rekao bih da je problem (iako mi se, govoreći o umjetnosti Antonyja Hegartyja, to čini vrlinom) u prekoračenju žanrovskih okvira pop & rock zvuka i svojevrsnoj simbiozi s umjetnošću klasične glazbe.
Čak i Grizzly Bear s najnovijim albumom Veckatimest (koliko god ostali dosljedni vlastitim istraživanjima i ludizmu) mogu biti fino uklopljeni u kontekst radiofonijske reprodukcije, dok se svijet albuma The Crying Light, osobito nakon vrlo prihvaćenog I am a Bird Now, čini sve udaljenijim otokom u odnosu na šarolikost suvremenog pop rock okruženja.
Iako je početkom godine u jednom broju britanskog glazbenog mjesečnika Uncut bio proglašen albumom mjeseca, nema ga u pregledu Uncutovih 50 najboljih albuma u 2009.
Zato se na pouzdanoj Pitchforkovoj listi 50 najboljih nalazi na 16. mjestu, dok je na popisima i Uncuta i Pitchforka trijumfirao zadnji rad Animal Collectiva, Merriweather Post Pavilion. U pregledu meni drugog zanimljivog sajta, tinymixtapes.com, The Crying Light zasjeo je na 50. mjesto.

Prenosim komentar s pitchfork.com:
"Watching Kazuo onstage," writes Yoshito Ohno, the son of the pioneering Butoh dancer Kazuo Ohno, who's pictured on the cover of Antony and the Johnson's third LP, The Crying Light, "we tend to miss such fleeting facial expressions, as more often than not we're captivated by his movements." The same holds for listening to Antony Hegarty. His radiant, amorphous voice and the transgender identity of which he's so often sung tend to dominate commentary. So often with Hegarty, the intricacies are overlooked for the obvious-- a big, gay, histrionic singer telling us about it all in a startlingly soulful feminine air.
But The Crying Light-- the first album Hegarty wrote outside of the queer New York art circles in which he was once an underground impresario-- deserves to alter that dialogue. Pained but hopeful, Hegarty expands his reach as a thinker and writer, examining his relationship to a wounded world and to abandoned images of masculinity. His interactions-- with his family, his environment, a lover, a friend-- serve as the old solipsism's stand-in. Extravagant but exact, the backing ensemble meets Antony's ambition with touches of rock and soul bravado and, more importantly, subtlety beneath the surface. The Crying Light tells its story in repeated, obsessive listens. In doing so, it suggests that Hegarty has a lot left to say. --Grayson Currin