One positive consequence of the Covid restrictions is that it has forced many of us to reflect on where we are in this current moment and this newfound existentialism frequently gives the impetus for a much postponed change.
The pandemic was one of the reasons why, for album number 12, Ana Egge (pronounced Eggy) wanted to do something different.
Added to this, the Canadian musician (now based in Brooklyn) started keeping, and making creative use of, a dream journal.
A timely collaboration with Irish singer-songwriter Mick Flannery also helped Egge to embrace another mindset. They had met at festivals over the years but it was Facetime sessions that moved things onto another level. Egge says that “almost every time we’d meet up, we’d write a whole song”.
Lie Lie Lie is the only song on the album she wrote alone. This is not about the Conservative government but about the deceptions that creep into, and ultimately destroy, loving relationships.
Producer Lorenzo Wolff was hired to breathe life into these new songs and he praises Egge for what he calls her adventurous ears.”
Setting out to form a more racially and culturally diverse set of musicians, Egge's band includes Corey Fonville (drums), Anh Phung (flute) and Jon Cowherd (keys). She also recruited Michael Isvara (bass) and Jonny Lam (guitars) from an African psych-funk band called Sinkane.
Synths and horns complete the sonic mix to give more of a pop feel than the folky Americana that has been her stock in trade until now. Only backing vocalist J.Hoard was someone she had worked with before; he sings on Want Your Attention.
Acoustic instruments are less prominent than on previous albums with the one exception of the exquisite closing track, We Lay Roses co-written with Gary Nicholson as a eulogy for a nephew. A melancholy trumpet is a masterly touch and, perhaps ironically, the simplicity of this touching song makes it the standout track.
The subjects of tunes like You Hurt Me and Heartbroken Kind can be guessed from the titles alone. The cover image of a scrap yard suggests broken lives but the joyous horn sound of the opening track Wait a Minute is the setting for a song which advocates taking time to metaphorically build bridges not walls. The life affirming video for this song establishes the mood.
The Machine is, paradoxically, a paean to humanity and without glossing over heartbreak, the honesty and directness of these bitter sweet songs encourages the notion that a more optimistic future lies ahead however weary we may currently feel. Heaven knows things can’t get much worse .... can they?!
