Album of the Week

"'Album of the Week'? Jacob, what does this mean?"

It's a new thing we'll be trying out on The Chapman Paper Sleeve. Each week I or my glorious wife will feature an album that we think is really cool. We'll tell you why it's cool, provide background info, upload some song clips, and raise our glass to offer a toast of high recommendation and goodwill to all men.

"What do you mean you'll be 'trying it out'?"

Well, it's possible that it will just end up being stupid instead of awesome. If that's the case, we'll discontinue it. We are on a quest of awesome, not stupid. Our goal is to be striving to do something cooler, better, and more in the tradition of a wild fiesta!

"Wonderful! Will there be free onion dip?"

What? No.

A lot of people got to know Regina Spektor for her 2006 album Begin To Hope (I did, at least), which is good because Begin To Hope is a gorgeous, darling piece of work. While it does bear her now-famous bizarrities, it's also very lush, very melodic, and very pleasantly pretty. Much of the time she is singing in the sunlight, with lots of bright colors beaming and cute little bows nestled like bluebirds in her hair. It isn't an oversimple, naive sunnyness, no---the lyrics are dagger-like in their sheerness, acerbic, sensual, which makes her music's heavy poignance often difficult for fans to explain. Spektor's balancing of these two elements is so foundational to her work that it is only once or twice on Begin To Hope that we hear something that is outrightly distressing, boiling over, plainly hot or plainly cold all the way through. ("Apres Moi", anybody?)

Soviet Kitsch, then, is a volcano. Still tuneful and pretty, but also more patently pained, disjointed, ponderous beyond belief. There are battles being fought everywhere---"Your Honor" is the loudest, most crunching, wailing song she's ever done, sounding riffwise like PJ Harvey---"Chemo Limo" is a harrowing 6-minute journey in a minor key, unraveling with a passion that outweighs the rest of her discography. Spektor's voice is more abrupt here, a vague rattle under her honey-smooth tones, and her LYRICS! Oh, this woman! On "Us", the word "statue" singles a person out ("statch-YOU"), while the word "contagious" unites it again ("contag-US"), making the song a tug-of-war of sorts; her plea to "break me to small parts" on "Ode to Divorce" makes her shouts of "out out out!" just previous feel like a physical beating ("ow! ow! ow!"); and the tales she tells us of other people's lives are wonderfully painted, as on "Chemo Limo" and with the man who met the Ghost of Corporate Future.

While much of her lyrics pass through travail, she explores the meaning of the heartbreak so thoroughly and carefully that she seems to have a reverence for it, respecting it's presence and waiting for it's changings. This album, maybe because of the knowing tone in her vocal delivery, feels like waiting---not strained or resigned, but a wait filled with understanding. And what is understood? I don't know.

Just under 40 minutes, it's worth sitting through the whole freaking thing. Every song is unique and worth mention, but I've carried on far too long. I offer a toast:

"Soviet Kitsch! You are wonderful! May your mirthful swaying and

wanderings through the wilderness teach you who you are and where

you want to be!" *swig*

TRACKLIST

01. Ode to Divorce

02. Poor Little Rich Boy

03. Carbon Minoxide

04. Flowers

05. Us

06. Sailor Song

07. * * *

08. Your Honor

09. The Ghost of Corporate Future

10. Chemo Limo

11. Somedays

LINKS

-- Another (better) review of an even earlier Regina Spektor album.

-- Buy Soviet Kitsch.

-- Regina Spektor online.