I was a huge Kate Bush fan and can’t fail to make the links…she also reminds me of the 60s/70s folk singer Melanie…something about the urgency/passion of how she sings.

Can’t stop listening…and would love to hear the vinyl.

Here’s a link to a recent episode of “All Songs Considered” with Joanna Newsom. She’s interviewed and also dj’s some songs from influences, including Lindsey Buckingham and Sandy Denny.

And here is a link to a page on The Wire’s website that has a link to the unedited transcript of Newsom’s interview that appeared in the November issue. (Sorry, that article doesn’t appear to be readily available on line.) First topic? Bleeding fingers (which, btw, she downplays).

I’ve never been very close to the stage, but I know she doesn’t use lyric sheets. There was nothing but her and the harp, chair, and mics on the stage at the Echoplex – no piles of paper on the floor or music stand, and there’s just not enough room on that harp to have all those words written out and taped onto it.

The Malibu show was great for several reasons, including having Callahan opening. I agree that seeing him solo is better than with a band. I could really focus on his lyrics and delivery. (I hoped he’d come out and do backing vox on Only Skin (as he does on the record), but no such luck.) Also, the seats were comfy and the sound great. No standing on tiptoe necessary.

Strangely, I too had the impulse (which I suppressed) to shout out for Sawdust & Diamonds right before she played it.

I need to check out Cowell and Otte. Wassermanmusik, indeed. Heh.

Did you get your turntable, then?

a few things i realized yesterday i wish i had included in the original piece:

–though i still haven’t wrapped my head around each individual song, i should have noticed the taxidermy trope in “sawdust and diamonds” as related to the figures of bodies wearing out. in this case, they’re strangely preserved. related to her headgear in that photo?

–the album sounds great on vinyl. in fact, i played “sawdust & diamonds” at record club off the LP. ahh. and opening that LP and taking in the packaging was the best music buying experience i’ve had in years.

–i wanted to note that though i love the parks/albini/o’rourke production and recording and mixing, i love the way that S&D stands as a centerpiece without the lush arrangements, just her and her harp. it was also a standout in the live show. once she had played the first two tracks in order i had the suspicion that she was going to play it straight through beginning to end. it made me want to shout out a request for the next one in the sequence (in this case, S&D again) but i refrained.

–I wanted to note how deliberate and smart she is about composition. She had some training in college but was apparently never satisfied and switched back and forth between music and creative writing. I’m not sure she graduated. In addition to the Riley and Reich namechecks, I should have noted her mention, in that Under the Radar interview, of her indebtedness to Henry Cowell, another great California experimental strings composer, and the strong similarities I hear in her songs to Hans Otte’s wonderfully titled Wassermannmusik.

Some thoughts:

–Rachel: I didn’t take up the Tori Amos thing on purpose because I’ve been such a stubborn Tori Amos detractor. I loved the first album when it was first released and bought a couple more, but I just didn’t stay on board. It could very well be my problem, and you know I respect you as a listener, fan, and critic. But the Amos thing rubbed me the wrong way. I realize he was comparing the physicality of their performance styles and not their songs, but there’s such a lightness to Joanna’s heaviness that separates her (in my limited mind) from someone like Tori Amos that I thought the comparison would be misleading to New Yorker readers who hadn’t listened to Newsom. I also think Tori Amos has been limited to some degree by the moment she appeared: it’s hard in my mind to separate her from the identity politics of the early 90s, and being saddled with the burden of identity politics can be death for an artist once the culture has moved past such preoccupations (for better or worse). I worried about doing the same thing when I invoked Sinead O’Connor. I do like the Kate Bush comparison, though.

–Lisa. Wow. I would have loved the Black Cat as a venue, just for size purposes. We were at Webster Hall — a big old space — and I had to strain my calves standing on tiptoe to be able to see her. I kick myself now for not getting to the Mercury Lounge shows from 2004.

–Jeremy: Her album cover aside (which I read as more than a little tongue in cheek) I take it that she’s annoyed by the Renaissance-faire pigeon-hole too. Check out her comments on “Joanna Newsom-style” fashions available in LA boutiques and on eBay in this interview, which I really liked (in spite of its overwrought introduction), and from which I nabbed that amazing photo of her in the animal skin hat. It’s always been funny to me that you had to acquire a taste for her; I’d think she was right up your alley, but maybe you just like whisperers more than squeakers.

How did you miss those shows? I thought you would be front and center, given that the opener was her new beau, my man Smog (now going under his own name, Bill Callahan). I was really unhappy that he wasn’t playing with her on this coast. He was playing solo sets, which is the best way to see him, I think. BTW, this morning I had a fantasy that Bill covered “Emily.” I can hear his baritone belting out those lines at a little slower tempo.

–Ruben: to me it makes no sense to compare glam punkers with folk harpists. Is it just a rock purist thing? Because I don’t see her music as being all that related to rock and roll anyway. Maybe if you wanted to compare her to Sandy Denny or Vashti Bunyan or somebody like that I could understand where you’re coming from, but there’s certainly more than one way to be physically engaged as a musician. To respond to your later question about gender: no, it’s not just that she’s a girl (although you’re a fool not to notice how hottt she is no matter where you fall in terms of sexual predilection); the performer she reminds me of most is Owen Pallett, aka Final Fantasy. (I know I’m starting to sound like Zoilus, but I would simply argue that my shared taste with Carl is one reason I like his writing so much.) Owen has covered “Peach, Plum, Pear” for a while and I really hope he takes up the challenge of covering one of the epic songs, too. I like the fact they they both appeal to indie rock crowds with a form of pop music that pushes toward high art contemporary composition (or whatever you want to call contemporary “classical” music). But I was an orchestra nerd. So sue me.

–Tim: Have you ever been close enough to see if she uses lyrics sheets? I’m jealous of the performances you’ve seen. And no — I don’t generally like SFJ reviews either, though sometimes he really lands an amazing piece. Remember the Nick Cave profile? That was a great one.

–Jamie: Thanks for weighing in. I followed your link to the 2003 piece you wrote on Joanna as “prodigy” (or not), which is such a terrific article I wish I had seen it three years ago!

I agree with you that her lyrics, even early on, were compelling, even stunning in places. They did remind me, though, of really good grad student writing — even some of the lines you quote. I’m an English professor, so of course I love lines about signifiers and signifieds (even if I haven’t used that vocabulary since I was an undergrad). But that, or the panopticon reference you note in the beginning of your piece, actually made her seem a little immature to me in her earlier stuff. As much as I love Milk-Eyed Mender (and it topped my list of favorite albums that year) it had a few moments that felt like juvenilia. Maybe it’s just that when I was a college freshman I loved ee cummings so much that all the poems I wrote sounded like ee cummings, and I certainly got that vibe early on in her lyrics (all those bridges and balloons and dirigibles and some extra syllables thrown in here or there).

With Ys I think she really moves past that. These songs — and not just because of their length — feel weightier, more considered. Not that she didn’t prove her mettle before: I’m just noting that she’s maturing as a writer, which makes me hungry for even more. I hope her career is as long an varied as Bjork’s, and that she doesn’t undergo some sort of disappearance for decades a la Vashti.

I don’t have a hard time imagining Ys as being recognized, forty or fifty years from now, as one of the great records of the early 21st century.