She’s the oft-misunderstood, oft-hyperbolized neo-folk darling who defies categorization due to her unconventional instrumentation (harp), more unconventional voice (squeaky) and still more unconventional disregard for standard pop/rock song structure and subject matter. Her first album, The Milk-Eyed Mender, was a compendium of short songs about yarn, seashells, devotion, regret, and imagination. Her second album, Ys, was a five-song collection where the shortest track clocked in at 7:17 and the longest at 16:53, each of them reveling in a rich orchestral background produced by Townes Van Zandt, each of them long enough to fully develop Newsom’s poetic ideas, against a landscape of leafless trees, talking circus animals, and astronomy lessons.
Now we get Have One On Me, billed as a triple album (available in LP and CD), out today on the label that’s been with her from the start, Drag City. Earlier this month, three tracks were prereleased on the Drag City site, and they were awesome (“‘81,” “Good Intentions Paving Company,” and “Kingfisher”). I especially loved “Good Intentions Paving Company” for its soulful edge, with the trademark piano riffs, backing vocals and organ of a previous era.
I’ve had a while to come to grips with the fact that Joanna Newsom is going to be super famous, now. I’m OK with that, though I’m not looking forward to the expanding criticism she’ll face for things like her visibility in the fashion industry or her famous comedian boyfriend. When people come across a young, prodigious musician early in her career, they tend to make her in the image they want, and they want her to stay twee and nubile and childlike. Remember, folks: Joanna Newsom doesn’t owe us anything.
You can listen to Have One on Me in its entirety on NPR Music.
>>> dragcity.com