Anthony and the Johnsons, The Cripple and the Starfish

The first album, the one I never really listened to before. Dan discovered the second album in Spring 2005, those last few months of OK-ness, typified by listening to this, to Joanna Newsome, to Rufus Wainwright, Elliot Smith, Panda Bear, Animal Collective, everything right-on and interesting enough to sway the tides of doubt coming.

Anthony and the Johnsons seem to be an acquired taste though, I fell in love with the man’s voice (only him and Jeff Buckley in “Lilac Wine” seem able to conjure up feelings of Nina Simone), and the completely unashamed “musical” style of the singing…there is no chasing of the cool here, clarinets and throbbingly emotional climaxes in the songs belong more with spotlights and velvet curtains than they do “gig” venues, radio-play and “this week’s most wanted”.

His voice and his songs remind me so much of Iffi. The tone of voice, all that chocolate and whisky (although he doesn’t tail off for those free-form cat noises the way Iffi does), and the songs showing that curious mix of old time blues refrains “I said my momma…” with a very English precision “…for quite some time now…” (is this band English? They must be…won the Mercury and I think you have to be English for that. Are they cursed? People talk about the curse of Mercury winners).

Actually I do recognise more of the songs than I thought I would do. There’s something chamber about them. I will say though, in “The cripple and the starfish” I find some of the words a bit too clunky…I suppose they’re supposed to be naïve, they sound clunky…and I would have rather not had a saxophone solo in the middle. Poor old saxophones, so cool for so long, and then not. Certainly not saxophone solos in the middle of songs…I have no patience with them. Hmm, and actually “Hitler in my heart” is sounds too clever-clever for me, and that’s unusual because I am normally seduced by such things, but there’s something about the quirky chopsticks piano opening, which falls straight into an open-mouthed “soulful” chorus, where emotions are so strong there are no words…maybe I’m of the school of “If there are no words, don’t make a sound” (Something I’ll go into later when I reach the Pet Shop Boys, but one of the best things about Neil Tennant as a singer is that he NEVER seems to feel the need to sing “ooh yeah” or “woah-woah” like other singers, and he is all the better for it).

Stylised emotion is a funny thing. This is very stylish with it, and there is nothing made which is not styled after all, and I’m sure Eliot would agree with styling more than framing what is already there (oh and is there a difference)…this music is so emotional, and like I say, this and a few more albums are so tied up with a time and a people and a place that it’s difficult to dissect the music from how you feel about the accessories…but yes this is so emotional and people who connect to the emotion and applaud it for being so honest and raw; are they not the same people who then look away when real emotion happens on the street – they who endorse brands of “coping” and “looking on the bright side” and “speaking with a calm and measured voice” are the first to highlight the lack of this in their art and man, they’re in touch with their emotions, there’s nothing sterile or clinical about them. Perhaps it’s a new dichotomy of where you show it, where is acceptable to leak between lines and where is unforgivable.

My lesson of the last couple of years is to beware of people with reasonable voices. Anthony, of Anthony and the Johnsons sings well of pain and joy. Because there are string quartets and well-spaced drum breaks beneath, his emotion is his credit. For heavens sake, let your emotions be reasonable and well-timed or the kingdom will fall.