The lone human voice can be the most amazing instrument. Who hasn't been mesmerized by a deeply romantic doo-wop song, insanely uplifted by a great a capella Gospel chorus, thrilled by a percussive African chant, or just plumb shocked by the clever techniques of such strange pop mutations as Bobby McFerrin or take 6?
When I bought this 24-song a capella compilation CD at a live show at Seattle's famed Paradox Theatre, after seeing Damien Jurado cover Appendix Out's "Four Nights Drunk" (and, peculiarly, not singing his own fine contribution to the album, "Dance Hall Places"), I didn't know what to expect. Two seminal underground influences were on board for the record – Jandek, the Southern figure of absolute mystery who has released cartons of lo-fi (description, not affected genre) folk-noise albums since the early 80s, and Jarboe, dark mistress of the (late?) Swans, whose sonic beauty and anger is rarely matched by any of the recent contenders for queen of goth/industrial/ambient sound – along with ever-dependable noir-folk ace Richard Buckner, indie gospel-mope faves Pedro the Lion, and the inimitable Mr. Jurado. It looked like a good place to invest – what?! a mere EIGHT BUCKS? Why on earth was this comp priced so low?
It sure isn't because of the quality of this album, which is very high. I just think people are frightened by "a capella music." People want as much bang for the buck as they can get – or they just want ambience. The human voice begs to be listened to, even if it's just sinister noise (as in the case of Jandek's and Jarboe's contributions). It demands attention, and frankly most people just want something slick they can have a mood to. Oftentimes, I think people feel the same way about music made by the human voice the way many seem to feel about spoken word – "interesting gimmick," "admirable at best," "too close to 'high art,'" or "not sonically substantial enough."
While not everything on this compilation is incredible, the majority of the material surprisingly is. And, unlike other compilations, you haven't heard these songs and styles a thousand times before, and few hide behind genre stances. The human voice, stark, naked, and bold, singing odes of pining and longing (Mia Doi Todd doing the French standard, "La Vie En Rose"), betrayal and regret (two of my very favorite songs of this year, Appendix Out's "Four Nights Drunk," which has a cheap and bizarre tape recorder effect which nonetheless is highly effective in setting the mood of the piece; and Pedro's magnificent "Breadwinner You," which, a cappella form aside, could be the last great song Elvis Costello never wrote), love and loss ("Ain't No Grave" by Buckner & P.W. Long, which just flat out rocks). Stylistically, the album is all over the map, and yet consistently enjoyable: for example, Danielson Familie knows its pop culture history, and further contributes to it with the startling cosmic doo-wop of "Allhallow's Eve," while Modest Mouse continue to chase vermin across tortured swamps in "Leaflets Gabe."
Best damn eight bucks I spent on a record all year. Don't be scared. Give in to the voice.
