Patrick Wolf is his own hero...and now he's mine too.
by
Mindy Menjou
Don't
hang the DJ just yet
I guess you could say that I'm one of those annoying, cranky
people who's spent the last few years constantly whining (why
dignify it?) about the state of music. Don't get me wrong. I'm
not trying to suck all the fun out of life. It's just that I
don't have TV, so complaining, by default, has become my main
form of entertainment. Well, besides music. And most new music,
unfortunately, just doesn't say anything to me. That's okay.
Not everything has to. However, I find that, in recent years,
most music hasn't said much of anything. Art for art's sake
is cool and everything, but a lot of music that is supposed
to be "just for fun" is more successful at just being boring.
That is to say, it doesn't even do what it does do in a new
or interesting way.
Only
recently have I come to realize that this is actually a really
exciting (if challenging) time to be a serious music fan.
I'm not about to put away my classic indie rock, punk, and
Britpop albums, but I am thrilled to be discovering a lot
of artists, many of whom are my age, who are doing something
new and different. Not only is this the first time in my life
that I can call myself a fan of artists who are my age (and
look forward to the possibility of watching an artist I love
grow and mature), but this is the first time I've ever been
one of anyone's original fans. It's the first time I can say
that I was there from the beginning (unless you count the
Spice Girls—and please don't). It's a nice change of
pace for a kid whose favorite band (that would be The Smiths)
broke up a few months after her fourth birthday. One of the
artists I'm most excited about is British import Patrick Wolf,
whose debut album "Lycanthropy" was released stateside on
April 6th by the German indie label Tomlab.
When
I imported "Lycanthropy" to my iTunes library (memo
to the RIAA: it's not in a shared folder so relax), its genre
was automatically listed as "unclassifiable." How
apropos. I honestly couldn't have said it better myself. But
here goes. Musically, the album is all over the map. Patrick
Wolf, who has been playing music professionally since he was
11 (he is 21 this year), plays no less than ten instruments
on the record, some of them quite unconventional (hello ukulele
and accordion). The sound he creates combines elements of
indie rock, electronica, classical and folk pop—sometimes,
but not always, in the same song. There's even a sort of punk
spirit to the whole thing, although a lot of that is owed
to Patrick's DIY approach to music-making (in addition to
holding writing, arranging, and producing credits for the
album, he mixed it on his own laptop).
What a boy wants.
"Lycanthropy" documents
Patrick Wolf's transformation from boy to wolf (the title should
make sense now) or, alternatively, his transition from childhood
to adulthood and from victim to victor. In Patrick's own words,
as they appear in his charmingly childish hand in the album's
insert, "Lycanthropy for me is a survival instinct..." With
whimsical song titles like "To The Lighthouse" and "Peter Pan,"
an ominous prelude and a dreamy epilogue, the album plays like
a modern day fairy tale. The world Patrick creates, however,
is more Brothers Grimm than Walt Disney. Only rather than big
bad wolves or wicked witches, the forces Patrick lists as having
sought to destroy him include bullies and intellectuals. To
quote Morrissey, another artist known for turning childhood
and adolescent traumas into glorious pop lyrics, "The story
is old, but it goes on."
What's
really special about Patrick is that, while his subject matter
isn't particularly unique, his approach to it is pretty refreshing.
Unlike every emo and punk-pop band, Patrick does not whine about
how unbearable his schooldays were. He sings about how he has
risen above them and how they have made him who he is (and not
in a stupid "look at me now, I'm dating a starlet from the latest
teen soap on the WB" way). In fact, what I love most about this
album is how unpretentious and defiantly happy it is. Patrick
sings (and whoops and yelps) with an exuberance that is contagious.
There is not a
bad song on the album and it's hard to say which song is the
best (although "Paris," with its sweeping strings and Patrick's
howls, is my personal favorite). However, "A Boy Like Me"
is most representative of what Patrick Wolf and this album
are all about. The song is about his refusal to be defined
by other people. In it, Patrick lists all of the things a
boy like him is supposed to be or do according to other people.
Apparently, a boy like Patrick "should shut those books, join
the army." Patrick contrasts other people's expectations with
his own dreams and aspirations: "but a boy like me would never
be seen fighting for peace. i want total chaos and a holiday
home in the east..." Reinforcing the fact that it is, in a
sense, a protest song, "A Boy Like Me" is punctuated with
shouts of "No!" He is not a boy like himself. He is himself,
an individual, an original. Patrick's lyrics could also apply
to his versatile musical style and his unwillingness to be
tied down to one genre. With its keyboards, ancient video
game samples, handclaps, and eccentric "barbershop" backing
vocals, "A Boy Like Me" is a lush electronic folk masterpiece.
It's also a beautiful example of the negotiation between different
musical extremes on this album, where the sputtering electronica
of "Bloodbeat," for example, sounds right at home alongside
the comparatively bare bones balladry of "Demolition." This
is the song that solidified my bizarre (but appealing) mental
image of Patrick as a time-traveling medieval troubadour with
a laptop, who, to appropriate and mangle the words of Oscar
Wilde, dares to look up at the stars from the gutters of a
Dickensian London.
Music snob no more.
"Lycanthropy" is not
a commercial album, although Patrick is already something of
a critical darling in the UK (where it was released last year).
Often when a person says an album is not for everyone, it's
meant as sort of an elitist statement. In this case, it's simply
the truth. Not everyone will like this album, due in large part
to its unabashed and unapologetic musical, vocal, and lyrical
weirdness. And it's a pity because for all its quirks, Patrick
Wolf has made a great (and startlingly original) pop record.
I used to try not
to get attached to new artists—no matter how much I liked
them—until they proved themselves. I feared falling for
an artist (when I fall for one, I fall hard) who might someday
appear on a One Hit Wonder edition of VH1's "Where Are
They Now?" So I'd wait for a sophomore effort of comparable
if not better quality to appear before declaring my fandom.
But I've changed all that. Patrick Wolf could never make another
album (although, given his obvious and long-standing commitment
to music, that's unlikely), and I'd just be thankful that
he made "Lycanthropy." However, there's never been
a better time to just get in there and start supporting exciting
new artists like Patrick to help ensure that they get the
opportunity to keep making music.
To find out more
about Patrick Wolf, who is soon to embark on a short American
tour, visit his website.
