Thursday, January 29, 2009

Gonna miss the beach, miss the things that grow...

I'm not going to say I was scared of listening to anything from the new Antony and the Johnsons. Terrified might be a better word. That voice is just so... fragile. Beyond fragile. Everything I've heard by them has been suicide-note intimate, and just so emotionally wrought and dramatic, always tottering on the edge of tears. It may as well be delivered from the edge of a cliff. Emotion like this is a pretty easy way to make me uncomfortable. But just like with the last album, I couldn't keep looking away, and was, again, surprised by the beauty. It's not an easy listen, I'll say that much.

Then there's the the cover art. Is there a shuddering emoticon? That thing's like a cross between Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Grey Gardens.


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