Spectreview: Big Thief – U.F.O.F.

-FUCHSIA PINK-

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“No resolution, no circling dove
Still caught in the jaw of confusion”

Big Thief titled their 2015 debut, Masterpiece, as if they were aware of how their nuanced, melancholy approach to indie folk already felt fully-formed. U.F.O.F. shows that band evolving, digging deep into the cracks between intellectual and emotional abstraction. Berklee musicianship has a great deal to do with it, as does top-notch production and sequencing: each instrument, from the crystallized arpeggiated guitars to James Krivchenia’s secret-weapon drums, rings with thought and purpose. On headphones, found sounds and subtle sonic touches like feedback and doubled parts lick the ears, creating an atmosphere grounded in fog, in uncharted waters and formless shadow. But musicianship can’t account completely for what Big Thief bring to the table, and that comes from Adrienne Lenker, a gifted lyricist with a feather-light voice capable of grazing the heart. Her talents lent a trembling power to Capacity’s heartbreaking study of familial empathy, but on U.F.O.F. she seems to tap into the same spiritual realm Van Morrison stumbles into on his Astral Weeks. Gone are the flesh-and-blood specificities of songs like “Mythological Beauty” and “Paul,” and their presence is missed, but in their place are deeply evocative turns of phrase (kisses of water, fragile orange wind, lime green tears) that read more poetic than lyrical, meant to be felt more than understood. Throughout, Lenker twists and sustains her words to amplify their potency; a line like “crying little rivers in her forearms” is powerful alone, but turns gutting when delivered though her determined vibrato on “Orange”. Her character writing remains strong, as does her vocal malleability, dropping into a weathered rasp on “Betsy” and a restrained wail on “Terminal Paradise,” a track reimagined from her recent solo album abysskiss. The most significant crossing of the band’s strengths lies in the breathtaking title track, where Lenker laments the departure of an alien companion as the track winds hypnotically around her words, coming closer than any band yet to the mysterious alchemy of Radiohead’s songwriting. U.F.O.F. may concern itself with unknown forces, but the true beauty of album is that it operates like one, drawing power from some unidentifiable source and burrowing itself into your subconsciousness on every repeated listen.

Highly recommended for stargazing in dark, dangerous fields.