What do you want me to tell you? I have to reiterate what I commented on the sidelines of the magnificent apparition in Bologna five years ago: it takes courage to whisper in the midst of a storm. Borrowing from Piero Ciampi, if real war is not waged with weapons but with the heart, then Jessica Pratt is the most heroic thing that can happen in front of a microphone. Stubbornness can be the cause of obtuseness as well as coherence, and in this case the scales definitely tip towards the second plate. A calm and resolute obstinacy to continue on his own path, regardless of the rough track and the shouts from the stands, faithful only to his own integrity and talent.
When dealing with similar characters, what is most surprising is the ability to refine the contours without distorting the figure, approaching a perfection that is not undermined, but rather solidified by the gradual addition of elements. “Here In The Pitch” is not that different from “Quiet Signs” (for this writer, the best album of 2019): the same ethereal fragility, the same sweetness in dim light, the same unreal sensation of echoing from another era , as well as the same fleeting duration (exactly 27 minutes). Yet, the two albums couldn’t be more different: the predecessor is so skeletal and “empty”, so baroque and “full” is this fourth work. To date her best, tomorrow who knows, given the creative antiphon of the Los Angeles fairy.
The covers would seem to contradict this interpretation: the bold smile in the car and the sumptuous furnishings of “Quiet Signs” are replaced by the sulk hidden in the dark and the downcast eyes of “Here In The Pitch”. A darker album, then? Far from it: the Spector-esque drumming of “Life Is” states with fatalism that, in fact, the life we have is this one, bittersweet like the Simon & Garfunkel harmonies of the chorus. Following, “Better Hate” promises violence but offers infinite delicacy with its arachnid intertwining of voices counterpointed by baritone sax and vibraphone, to the punctiform rhythm of a distant clave.
A “World On A String” which fortunately is not that of “Tonight’s The Night”, accompanied by a delightful video in the same color sixties, is the best song Jessica has ever written: a melancholic elegy in which acoustic guitar and piano rest on a soft surrealist cushion, embellished with mellotron and harpsichord corollas. More in line with the past is the dry “Get Your Head Out” , but those final touches of electric piano confirm a distancing from folk in favor of a velvety psychedelic easy listening, brought to fruition in the bossa nova of “By Hook Or By Crook”. A similar argument applies to the soft organ of “Nowhere It Was”, which could be aouttakes from “Pet Sounds” more than from “Pink Moon”.
For its part, the nursery rhyme “Empires Never Know” abdicates the guitar to rely on the graces of a slightly out of tune piano, pampered by soft caresses of flute and maracas. The six strings regain their lair in the minute and a half instrumental of “Glances”, in which they find space just for a boned arpeggio and a sad brass orchestra like the “Disintegration Loops” of Basinski’s memory. At this point there would only be Bacharach left to pay homage to and “The Last Year” doesn’t need to be repeated twice, letting the last halos of dream fade away on his splendid melodic tapestry. As for us, albeit reluctantly, we just have to reopen our eyes.
Finally, is there still a need to say anything about that rumor? The most peculiar, alien, magical of modern American authorship? Consecration of an artist already consecrated with flying colors, “Here In The Pitch” is perhaps just the umpteenth step in a climb to heaven that could continue forever.
05/06/2024
