 |
|
Fern Knight, "Seven Years of Severed Limbs"
Normal
Lullabies and fairy tales can possess certain qualities that belietheir gentle names, and might well inspire sleepless nights as opposedto sweet dreams. The former speak of helpless, cradle-bound babiesfalling to their certain doom, and anyone who has glanced through theoriginal stories of the brothers Grimm knows that their name was arather apt description of their stories' conclusions. It's amazing howa soothing voice or an impeccable melody can assuage the rather irksomefeel of the gothic subject matter. On 'Seven Years of Seven Limbs,'Fern Knight (comprised of ex-Difference Engine members Margie Wienk andMike Corcoran) has given us a collection of their own folktales thatplay with darker shades of storytelling imbued with a fairy tale likesense of wonder. From the outset of "She Who Was So Precious to You,"we find a sparse arrangement of acoustic guitar and strings that arelit up by Wienk's gorgeous vocals, like a shaft of sunlight peekingthrough a dark thicket of dead trees. The lyrics are foreboding andpresents us with the first of many moments of grotesque beauty, "If thefull moon won't illuminate us / if the wine glass won't even stay full/ if the wolf won't eliminate you / then I will." It is a series ofimages so vibrant, so enticingly conveyed that you're pulled in; andyet they are also full of malice. This malevolence is undercut somewhatby a desolate feeling, as in "Chelyabinsk," which gives off a sense ofgreat distance and overwhelming loss that has settled into fear andregret. In "Boxing Day", Wienk dons a red riding hood, declaring "Idon't think it's okay to be going downhill with you" to whoever orwhatever serves as the big bad wolf in her emotional dark forest. Thesong begins with the twang of a slide guitar, however over the courseof its seven minutes, it loses the plot and begins to drift off of itsstructure finally dissolving into a wispy collection of church bells,alarm calls, and telephone ringers before segueing into the rain andstreet noise intro of "Mover Ghost." In the waning minutes of the disc,the metaphor and imagery of the wolves, the dark forests and watchfulmoons begins to fade away in favor of more literal expressions of theconflicts they embodied. "Make your record of it / You're such an easytarget / mark those days off on your wall." The distance is nowmeasured in time, not symbolized by some far off Russian outpost.'Seven Years of Severed Limbs' closes with the stunningly beautiful"Dog Named Summer," loaded full with an impeccable melody and moresoaring vocals that shape the scene of that golden yellow summer sundipping below the rooftops, the heaviness of the heat and the method ofyour movements. Fern Knight draws a slow story, one that makes for anexcellent tale that explores those winding forest paths and the thingsthat lie hidden between the lines
Lullabies and fairy tales can possess certain qualities that belietheir gentle names, and might well inspire sleepless nights as opposedto sweet dreams. The former speak of helpless, cradle-bound babiesfalling to their certain doom, and anyone who has glanced through theoriginal stories of the brothers Grimm knows that their name was arather apt description of their stories' conclusions. It's amazing howa soothing voice or an impeccable melody can assuage the rather irksomefeel of the gothic subject matter. On 'Seven Years of Seven Limbs,'Fern Knight (comprised of ex-Difference Engine members Margie Wienk andMike Corcoran) has given us a collection of their own folktales thatplay with darker shades of storytelling imbued with a fairy tale likesense of wonder. From the outset of "She Who Was So Precious to You,"we find a sparse arrangement of acoustic guitar and strings that arelit up by Wienk's gorgeous vocals, like a shaft of sunlight peekingthrough a dark thicket of dead trees. The lyrics are foreboding andpresents us with the first of many moments of grotesque beauty, "If thefull moon won't illuminate us / if the wine glass won't even stay full/ if the wolf won't eliminate you / then I will." It is a series ofimages so vibrant, so enticingly conveyed that you're pulled in; andyet they are also full of malice. This malevolence is undercut somewhatby a desolate feeling, as in "Chelyabinsk," which gives off a sense ofgreat distance and overwhelming loss that has settled into fear andregret. In "Boxing Day", Wienk dons a red riding hood, declaring "Idon't think it's okay to be going downhill with you" to whoever orwhatever serves as the big bad wolf in her emotional dark forest. Thesong begins with the twang of a slide guitar, however over the courseof its seven minutes, it loses the plot and begins to drift off of itsstructure finally dissolving into a wispy collection of church bells,alarm calls, and telephone ringers before segueing into the rain andstreet noise intro of "Mover Ghost." In the waning minutes of the disc,the metaphor and imagery of the wolves, the dark forests and watchfulmoons begins to fade away in favor of more literal expressions of theconflicts they embodied. "Make your record of it / You're such an easytarget / mark those days off on your wall." The distance is nowmeasured in time, not symbolized by some far off Russian outpost.'Seven Years of Severed Limbs' closes with the stunningly beautiful"Dog Named Summer," loaded full with an impeccable melody and moresoaring vocals that shape the scene of that golden yellow summer sundipping below the rooftops, the heaviness of the heat and the method ofyour movements. Fern Knight draws a slow story, one that makes for anexcellent tale that explores those winding forest paths and the thingsthat lie hidden between the lines
