Seasons/Heather

[totoro@charm.net (Milky Way)]

Dear Lovehounds:

It occurred to me that we should have more poetic terms for periods of Kate
activity (and inactivity) as far as we fans are concerned. Here's a
suggestion, provided this topic hasn't been discussed before...

I thought seasonal metaphors might be nice. Right now we're in the Winter
of the Red Shoes. This is how it might work...The period leading up to the
release of a new album is the Spring. The actual release and the flurry of
publicity right after is Summer. Autumn is the period around where the last
couple of singles from the album are released. Winter, that's when
Lovehounds while away the long silence listening to older albums. Kate must
be in the polar latitudes because her Winters are so long. She's holed up
in her studio putting together her new songs for us. Meanwhile, we can
spend some of our chill time discovering other artists...

This winter I've spent July and August listening to Bjork's new album. It's
so much fun and such an improvement from her first solo album! I bought a
record by a singer named Joan Osborne (RELISH). There is one really
excellent song on it called "St.Theresa" which is a song about a drug
addict. I found a CD called SONGS FROM THE COLD SEAS featuring the voices
of Varttina, Bjork, Suzanne Vega, Jane Siberry and Siouxie Sioux, among
others. The Jane Siberry cut, "She's Like a Swallow" is really good.

The big discovery this month is Heather Nova, who I've never heard of
before. The album is called OYSTER. Hard to describe...Some of the songs
are kind of Doors or Jefferson Airplane-like...a little more
straightforward and guitar-based compared to Tori Amos...some sad moods
that reminds one of Sarah McLachlan. There's a terrific song called
"Island" about an abused woman. She does this lonely wailing bit on it that
reminds me of the lovelorn green lady that used to plague Mr. Smith on LOST
IN SPACE. Scary lyrics, but a beautiful song. I would highly recommend this
album.

   ISLAND (excerpt)

There are parts of me he'll never know,
my wild horses and my river beds,
and in my throat voices that he'll never hear.
He pulls at me like a cherry tree,
and I can still move but I don't speak about it.
Pretend I'm crazy, pretend I'm dead.
He's too scared to hit me now - he'll bring flowers instead.

   (chorus)
   I need an island, somewhere to sink a stone
   I need an island, somewhere to bury you,
   somewhere to go...


Hiro Amano
http://www.charm.net/~totoro/amano.html
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         If music be the food of love, eat the music.
           Hiro & Lesley Amano
         totoro@charm.net  http://www.charm.net/~totoro/amano.html

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