Dear Gawain,
It's Ty here, bro. How's life over the lake? Here the dogs are still relishing cold coffee from bowls and the cats sigh with jaded superiority. I have mailed Joanna Newsom's new, 3 LP opus along with this letter, hope it gets to you. Have One On Me lured me into the past, our friendship, the pleasing realm of memory. When The Milk-eyed Mender caught you spellbound with beauty and seeming innocence. I was the cautious one. There was a wave, or a flash, wasn't there, of young, literate songwriters regressing, uncoiling themselves in childlike caves. Coco Rosie, Devendra Banhart, Newsom and to a lesser extent Animal Collective swooned to their own charmed, fantastical adventures. Only AC hinted at wild riots, the others being just too cute to spoil the party. Our roles then reversed. I found myself lost in Ys' ambitious, enigmatic reverie while you stood outside protesting self-indulgence.
Have One On Me illustrates the calm maturation of her gift. She has grown out of creaking helium to cooing reflectiveness, her vibrato refined into a hush. No longer a fluke overdosing on quirk, here is Newsom revealed as an artist dedicated to her craft. The songs could be revised old spiritual madrigals, where it not for her constant, dense lyricism. The level of self involvement is striking, in the same way as Kate Bush inhabited her own private universe, leaving you feeling lucky to be allowed in. It's also imbued by a feminine grace, a captivating Eden, timeless and distant from rock convention. True, it's meandering at points-but isn't it perhaps refreshing to hear albums stripped of instant, sensationalist gratification. I will delve into these sensory songs of poignant, mystified desire with an endless frequency, trusting them to blossom further colors and complexities. Until then, write back and share your thoughts, I'd like to hear your kind personal opinion Wain. Mother and Father send all their love.
Peace, Tyvian
