On the album's actual cover photo, a naked Natasha Khan carries a naked man on her shoulders. The private parts, ahem, are covered up, barely. (Yeah, I expected all of you would click on the link before reading this parenthetical--some readers you are). The D Man imagines the provacative photo is a feminist metaphor for the emotional and physical burdens that women must carry for the haunted men in their lives. Perhaps this is too literal of an interpretation, but I doubt it. After all, we are somewhat problematic as a gender and species and, well, you saw the photo, didn't you?
So if you are an emotionally stunted male, it looks like this record could pose some problems. But there is hope. Once the music begins, all potentially contrived attacks will glance off your (brawny?) chest, and you will be hardpressed to excuse yourself from listening. Because the songs are visceral enough, so right in front of you, so intoxicating, the only thing that will matter is the dark beauty of another Bat for Lashes record.
Artful and unguarded, The Haunted Man is Natasha Khan at her most elemental. Her lyrics are raw, her melodies succinct and urgent. Unlike the embellishments in past records, the production here is meticulous, cutting away unwarranted intrusions into Khan's subterranean world. On tracks like "Laura" and "All Your Gold," there is little to interfere with her direct, emotive ambitions. Yet she remains just as mysterious, sensual, and compelling as ever.
The songs are mostly flights of fantasy. On "Winter Fields," the track swirls over a bed of strings, and then marches forward with perfectly-placed drum fills, evoking a bleak scene from a dream: Oh mother, I'm scared to close my eyes / Some winter dreams make you dive and dive, and dive down. On "Wall," Khan sings over stretched-out synth lines, sultry and confident, imagining a woodland path to redemption: when you see a wall, I see a door. On "Marilyn," her tremulous falsetto rises above dark-shaded electronica for a brief, shining moment: holding you, I'm touching a star! Steeped in pop-culture romanticism--turning into Marilyn, leaning out of a big car--Khan's marriage of sound and voice is sublime.
Though some artistic chanteuses overdo the drama, Khan is not content to draw out her pain and longing with slow, dirge-like compositions. There are no look at me writhe before you moments that, for better or worse, frighten away many would-be male listeners. She prefers movement, pulsating rhythms, flashes of color, carrying songs forward with purpose and emotional thrust. Some of her songs could even be described as club music cloaked in arthouse cinematics. Indeed, songs like "Daniel" from Two Suns, or "All Your Gold" from this record, are really just Phd versions of Ke$sha dance tracks. This may be the best thing about Bat for Lashes: she moves.
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