| Whence springs the rhythm, which
turns out to be central to the whole project after all. It’s
in the cadence of “the next thing I know/that Coyote’s
at my door,” and it’s in the soaring vocal/bass counterpoint
of the album-closing “Refuge of the Roads.” It’s
in the leaving-behind of the pop conceits that had licked up
like flames from beneath a grate on both Court and Spark and
the generally underrated Hissing of Summer Lawns, and in the
great unknown that springs up to replace them. Where else is
there music like this? If there is any, I haven’t heard
it. Even stripped of its content, it would retain its nakedly
emotional core. The pedal-steel in “Amelia” alone
is enough to send depressive types to the medicine cabinet. |
