New Marit Larsen album is airier and earthier than the last one, a bit less inwardly neurotic. The arrangements are still delightful, with little knives that strike tactically at yer heart. The words are cooler; the persona's something of a 180 from her last one: she's more the chaser than the chasee.
In my screenwriting class, I have to teach a lot of fairly drab theory as to how to best write characters and situations, and one thing that I liked most about Under the Surface was the carefully-spun paranoia that enveloped such lush, at turns whimsical, production -- in screenwriting parlance, Marit was pulling off a taboo type: an engaging passive character. She sat, brooded, let her mind wander to dark places. She let the conflict come to her, sneak up on her while she was sleeping ("This Time Tomorrow"), while she was at her happiest and boldest in a new relationship ("Under the Surface"). Everything happened to her; she sat back and waited knowingly. It was a profoundly sad album, and paradoxically one of the brightest and repeatedly rewarding listening experiences I've had in recent memory.
And that sadness permeates The Chase, too, but she's taken a more active role here, writing the song to win back the one she lost (NB: she chased him off because she was afraid of what would happen if the relationship succeeded); reducing her relationship to a childish game of peek-a-boo in "This Is Me, This Is You," finding small pleasures in simple, nostalgic recognition (NB: she's also suggesting that the two of them can't be together, that they're "light years apart...standing next to each other"; their separation may also destroy them, it just doesn't happen to be doing so yet). If Under the Surface was Swedish-Americana Disney [EDIT: I know Marit's from Norway, but I was thinking specifically of ABBA -- maybe Scandinavian-Americana would be better?], this one leans more heavily on those country elements, with pacing that's more relaxed, with fewer highs and lows.
Not sure how I feel about it. It's an assured album, just as bold as the last one, and I think it makes a wonderful two-sides-of-the-coin pairing with Under the Surface. But I wonder if I prefer the insulated bubble of the former; it certainly informs the direction on this one, which takes on a deeper meaning when you realize that Marit is actually learning a lot through these songs, getting markedly more level-headed about how she approaches her relationships. "I'm about to break your heart like you broke mine" -- a literal role-reversal from "This Time Tomorrow," in which Marit leaves while he's sleeping. When he wakes up, she'll be gone (she's already counted the steps). Context isn't everything here, and this holds up as a strong, coherent piece. But her history buoys the album in a way that Under the Surface doesn't "need" this one -- wasn't begging for this one to be made (one of its strengths is that it doesn't need the closure of having moved on -- "Poison Passion" is still a little poison pill at the end, a bit of sugar-coated cyanide as palate-cleanser).
That said, if you don't know Marit yet, I'd readily recommend this one on its own, much in the same way I'd recommend I Am Me to someone who hasn't heard Autobiography -- it might also be interesting to chart things backwards. (The comparison is apt, I think.) Some of the hooks here sweep you along, "Don't Save Me" being the clearest predictor of the tone. There are final flourishes with a gymnastic snap (the staccato wink closing "Steal My Heart") and audacious rug-pulling moves (the gloomy minor fake-out of "This Is Me, This Is You"). It's another small album that feels huge. I'm happy that she seems to be here to stay.
No comments:
Post a Comment