CD Review - Harvey & Parish

http://www.pittnews.com/arts-entertainment/harvey-walks-away-with-a-hit-1.1651886

Harvey walks away with a hit


There is screaming, jamming and a ukulele — all in the name of depressing, moving, heart-touching music.

In a mere 38 minutes, PJ Harvey and John Parish take the listener through exhilarating and emotional territory on their collaborative album, A Woman A Man Walked By.

Jumping straight into the jams, “Back Hearted Love” begins on a dark, creepy and stalkerish note. The words, “I think I saw you in the shadows / I move in closer beneath your windows / Who would suspect me of this rapture?” conjure the image of a secret love that has completely enveloped vocalist PJ — short for Polly Jean.

Please, listeners: Keep any latent desires the song arouses confined to the lyrics. It is still illegal to stalk people.

From that hardcore opening, the duo progresses to a softer musical tone by simply singing and strumming their instruments. Still, PJ’s voice can impressively take over the deep notes and soar on the high ones, so the lack of jamming is only minimally disappointing.

The second track hints at a dark story of a couple playing hide-and-seek while counting down from 16 (hence the title “Sixteen, Fifteen, Fourteen”), only to cease with their laughter in a muddy garden.

The high-pitched ballad “California” says an ominous goodbye with the words, “No one but me is walking / Under palms that give no shade / I’m leaving you today.” It’s so easy to substitute other names for the metaphors established by the song, but the lyrics keep it superficially mysterious.

Four songs in, and there’s no sign of a cheerful ending. “Chair” ends with the words, “Pieces of my life / Are gone / Washed away in the water that took my son.” Oddly enough, this is the song that reintroduces the jamming guitar in a switch from the melancholic acoustics, creating a tense ambience in its harmonic chords.

Through “April,” PJ croaks over the organ, “I dreamed April / That I’m walking / That I’m watching / Your rain / It overcomes me.” The album seems to suggest that all relationships are doomed — at least the ones portrayed here.

Taking a step toward the gruesome, the track “A Woman a Man Walked By / The Crow Knows Where All the Little Children Go” takes the prize for longest song title, but also showcases the ability of the vocalist to switch between unfiltered harmonizing and aggressive snarling. The lustful song has contorted music in the background to match the animal nature of lust – the word “twitchy” is used, and it couldn’t be more appropriate.

Leaking into the realm of current events, “Soldier” proclaims, “It’s the year when some poet said / We must love or accept the consequences / I want you to share every pinprick of guilt / That I have felt,” as Parish strums away on his ukulele. The lyrics and PJ’s passionate vocals will make listeners feel the burning guilt the artists so passionately try to convey in the song, but only to a middling degree.

Ironically shifting to a song called “Passionless, Pointless,” suddenly the passion is gone, at least almost — it’s a passionate expression of a lack of passion in the relationship: “Passionless, Pointless / Where does the passion go? I’m asking / There’s no kindness in your hands / No reaching out for me tonight.” Confusing, yes, but the artists poignantly express their feelings in a relatable way.

Finally, at the end, “Cracks In The Canvas” proclaims, “Walking toward something / Waiting for something / I’m looking for an answer / Me and a million others.”

Right on, PJ. Thank you for that — because everyone will be clamoring for answers after this album.