Every picture tells a story, don’t it? A well-crafted song also does that. Jess Williamson is adept at both.
Native State marks Williamson’s return to her native Austin, Texas, after time spent in New York City studying for an advanced degree in photography (she has a bachelor’s in documentary photography and journalism from the University of Texas), and this album comes across as a calm intake of a cleansing breath. Despite the LP’s brevity (just under 30 minutes total), these seven songs form a focused whole, lingering over landscapes. Phrases blossom over her simple banjo line backed by cello, percussion, guitar and synth. Images develop gradually.
The opening track, “Blood Song”, speaks to this detailed introspection: “Things look far away/ And you haven’t felt awake for days and days/ And days and days and days.” Her voice is reminiscent of Lissie, Emily Wells, and owes much to more mature singer/songwriters such as Johnette Napolitano and Tanita Tikaram.
Williamson’s poetry — multi-layered and complex as it is — takes much revisiting before it begins to fully sink in. Such deep poetic lyricism eventually suffuses the listener so that her banjo seems to mimic the sound of sporadic raindrops falling on a copper garden pergola — or the beating of a heart, blood rushing through veins and throbbing in temples.
Her unique phrasings are truly compelling, yet can be somewhat disorienting: “Wrapped you in white towels” can sound an awful lot like “Wrapped you in white owls”, which, I confess, sounds just as evocative, albeit oddly feathery. One of the highlights is the blissful “You Can Have Heaven on Earth”, with a line that seems to be at the core of Williamson’s dual art: “…all of us thinking what we can’t photograph, we can sing”.
What strikes me most about Native State is the juxtaposition of complex poetry and a hauntingly simple banjo, a pairing that works well in this case. But make no mistake, this isn’t an easy listen — these songs take focused attention and quiet reflection. It’s not for everyone.
Williamson takes us on an interesting journey through desolate prairies and fields — long distances between towns, and even longer distances between people and relationships — through lives examined in minute detail, rocks found in a river turned over in the hand and examined, moments that are unphotographable to be remembered only through song.
The LP’s final cut, “Seventh Song” ends hopefully enough: “But do you know how holy it is/Just to quietly sit with someone?”
[Originally appeared at Earbuddy]
Purchase: Brutal Honest Records / Amazon
