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"I don't like Robert Johnson," Jolie Holland says,
"but I've got an awesome live recording of [singer-songwriter]
Entrance doing "Love In Vain." His version goes,
"When the train left the station, there were two lights
on behind/the blue light was the blues and the red light was
my mind/is all my love in vain?"
It's a nice coincidence, then, that when writing notes on
her third album, Springtime Can Kill You, Holland was on a
train. What she wrote, in fact (her aversion to Johnson aside),
is as unvarnished and poetic as that song. As well, it's a
consummately eloquent sketch of the record and through-line
for this bio.
She writes: This baby is the picture of a lovesick, convoluted
mind. Sometimes my voice is as a lusty young woman, sometimes
an adoring friend, sometimes a tormented soul, sometimes a
whispering ghost.
Just as with her lauded 2003 basement-tapes, Catalpa, and
2004's studio debut Escondida, Holland writes with a soft
focus and a sharp edge (and sometimes vice-versa). Springtime
Can Kill You takes this approach to a transcendent level.
Holland's sepia-toned song noir and billowy voice are in rare
form as she weaves ethereal tales at a crossroads where haunting
meets joyful—hers is a voice from the heavens singing
stories of the underworld. The songs rise and fall like heavy
eyelids and convey the peace of a place between asleep and
awake. Sounds from past and present-tense waltz together to
a never-ending melody that flickers between folk, jazz, blues
and pop as Holland's characters and situations play on surrealistic
celluloid.
We return to Holland's notes: …The hallucinations keep
emphasizing the meanings of birdsong, moonshine, crazy dreams
and the profusions of spring. There are open doors onto isolated
county roads. Echoes of Memphis Minnie's "Homesick Blues,"
of Freakwater's "My Old Drunk Friend," Jimmie Rodgers
pining for love. This is a pilgrim's progress through the
haunted season of lust.
The lilting "Crush in the Ghetto" is the birdsong,
Holland cooing about a new love ("I'm flirting with the
birds, I'm talking to the weeds, look what you've done to
me"). "Moonshiner" is a countrified, sultry
appeal ("You got that good hard stuff that always gets
me high"). "Crazy Dreams," written by Holland's
friend C.R. Avery, has Holland trapped and tormented ("caught
in the thistle, someone stumped on my pride") in a troublesome
trance.
"Springtime Can Kill You" is the sum of those songs,
blending bliss, lust and torment into a creepy-beautiful,
Jarmuschian reverie. Holland, singing as if deceased, warns
there's no time to smell the roses ("you don't have the
time for the least hesitation"). Though existential at
first blush, it's a coy, sultry, spectral, even baleful tune
where death is a metaphor for the black aftermath of rent
love. "It's just about being fucked-up, heartbroken and
burnt," says Holland.
This is the first time she wrote songs specifically for an
album as well as a band. "I even wrote myself out of
a few songs, so I could work solely as a singer." She
says allowing her band members to stretch their legs, particularly
with guitarist Brian Miller (co-writer of "Crush in the
Ghetto" and the title track), helped her focus more on
each song's essence. Consequently, Springtime Can Kill You's
rich tones swirl through Holland's unique storytelling to
create a departure from reality, a reminder of the beauty
humans can create.
In her words: Most of the stories and words are mine, but
there are a few instances in which I let other people's songs
tell the story because my voice is one of millions, just a
tiny drop in an ocean of love songs…
Holland produced Springtime Can Kill You with friend Lemon
DeGeorge at two studios in Holland's home base of San Francisco.
Most of the tracking was done at John Vanderslice's Tiny Telephone
(where Holland and her band indulged in its array of vintage
gear) and a few mix sessions and some overdubbing occurred
at the venerated Hyde Street Studios (Grateful Dead, Jefferson
Airplane, Son Volt, Chris Whitley). Many tracks were recorded
live to tape—and a few of these were tracked before
an audience of Holland's friends.
Springtime is a remarkable statement for an entirely self-trained
singer-songwriter whose first dalliance with music was with
a toy piano (a harbinger of her love for classic instrumentation)
and whose musical identity manifested while playing itinerant
songwriter throughout the South. It bears both the rustic
grain of her work with the Be-Good Tanyas (which she co-founded
and departed after their debut album, Blue Horse—a subject
she confronts on "Mexican Blue") and the self-reliance
of Catalpa, her much-adored debut. As well, it expands on
the not-so-hidden charms of Escondida, which earned raves
from the press and fans like Tom Waits.
Holland will preview tracks from Springtime Can Kill You at
several pre-tour warm up shows among those will be two at
Largo in Los Angeles, April 5th and 26th . She'll follow these
with tours of North America, Europe, Australia and New Zealand
throughout 2006. Along the way she'll continue her genre-hopping
guest appearances, which last year included an onstage turn
with hip-hop artist Sage Francis and singing on Bad Religion
singer Greg Graffin's upcoming solo album.
But right now Holland's thoughts remain with Springtime Can
Kill You. In particular, its haunted lust, true adoration,
gentle torment and persistent whispers and how, in concert,
they ask the same question: is all her love in vain? In her
notes, Holland's parting thought answers "yes":
We are all lovers, and every heart can break. And springtime
is always a beautiful minefield strewn with honeysuckle and
thorny roses.
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