Jesse Sykes is a kindred soul; in an interview
with Magnet in 2005, she talks about her reaction/relationship
with music and her band: "that sense of something happening
inside the music--something that's part of the music, yet separate
from it...if you could record the sound of my soul, that's what
it would sound like." Anyone who understands the complexity
and beauty of a mix tape, or the power of a song to break hearts,
or mend fences, or burn bridges, knows exactly
where she's coming from. It's why we repeat songs endlessly, treasure
albums amongst our prized possessions, or sometimes count on songs
to say the words that we can't seem to easily communicate otherwise--a
point she expresses so beautifully in song form: "record
me your heart/so that i can do my part/with ribbons of concerned
melody." Jesse and her band, The Sweet Hereafter, have
created something special with their new album, Like, Love,
Lust & The Open Halls of the Soul. A mix of gorgeous
sunny pop, driving melodies, gritty (and excellent) guitars, and
mournful, otherworldly Americana (see the fragile "The Air
Is Thin"), the album is earthy, atmospheric and dreamy. Jesse's
voice often conveys both a heartbreaking fragility and an inner
toughness/reserve. Raspy one moment and smoky the next, she switches
between the two effortlessly, and that duality is what makes her
voice so evocative and charming. Nature and the mystic world play
a major role throughout the album--a conduit through which she
expresses her themes of isolation, love, uncertainty, and wisdom
through experience (and this reminds me much of another kindred
spirit--and current tour mate--Mark Linkous)--
just listen to the cold raindrops in lilting first single "You
Might Walk Away", the healing sunshine of "Morning,
It Comes" or the yearning, ghostly "Spectral Beings."
There isn't a bad song or a misstep to be found on Like, Love,
Lust... every song is filled with texture (strings, piano,
horns) and meticulously crafted. A lonesome harmonica blows through
the album opener "Eisenhower Moon", desolate and haunting.
Backed with windswept harmonies, crunchy guitars come in and give
the song strength and new life--right before it becomes too heavy.
"How Will We Know" is built around a slinky bass line,
whispery drums, and gorgeous harmonies, and the bittersweet, wistful
ender "The Open Halls of the Soul" brings the album
full circle.
Jesse has seemingly floated underneath the radar of many listeners
for years; with this album, I'm hoping she finally gets her moment
in the sun, as she deserves adoration to be heaped upon her in
truckloads. "Only music sets my soul free/My heart's
a gem/wrapped up in your song again."
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