Gay Henchman came up to me sometime in late January and suggested that if I ever ran out of things to write, I could write about the music that I was into. He had noticed that I have a tendency to momentarily gravitate toward an artist and listen to them abusively until I grow tired and move onto different musical prospects. It was a great idea to write about my favorite artists of the month, however I don’t think my choices would count. You see, my babies, the singers that I tend to gravitate toward have one thing in common: they tend to die young. Just kidding—god I hope I just didn’t curse myself to become the killer of all young and budding artists with potential.
But here I am, without a thing to write about—actually I do, but I really think GH’s idea was really great.
So instead of me picking out the artist of this month, I figure that I have GH do the honors and find one for me. Apparently he began to anticipate that I was going to ask for assistance because the moment I came up to him, he had told me that he had “borrowed” my iPod and went ahead and uploaded this particular artist’s songs (more rather stole my purse for a couple of hours without my notice).
“He’s gorgeous!” exclaimed GH in a schoolgirl-like manner as he returned my purse. Granted that I do like to look at handsome men, I would be slightly reluctant to listen to someone’s recommendations for a musical artist simply because of a nice ass. That’s like saying that we should watch more of a porn star not of his ability to please, but for his PhD in Physics.
And so the artist excavation began. A Boston native, Chris Garneau moved to Brooklyn to play live music. His venues are small but often packed as one reviewer who went to go see a performance had said to me. The setting is very simple: a piano with a lampshade and a cellist who accompanies him a piano. Together they play a few songs in the dimly lit room, something that supports and amplifies the mood of his music.
His music is not for the perky and the sunshine-lollipops. The key theme of Garneau’s music is pessimistic and tragic—this comment is a complement. In slow tempo, most songs are in minor keys, giving it a more melancholy feel. Much of will directly remind me of Regina Spektor (her style of music, not her lyrical), Jeff Buckley, and Elliot Smith, who by the way he does an excellent cover of “Between the Bars”.
He succeeds in conjuring memories in ones head but in darker shades. His song “Relief” is an example. Although in an interview Garneau professes that the song gives a more positive attitude about coming across a former lover and no longer feeling jealous. Personally when looking at the lyrics and listening to the song one more time, I could not find the “no longer feeling jealous part”; in fact in my interpretation of the song is otherwise: jealousy still remains. GH’s interpretation of the song, much like many illiterate testosterone-induced men, is about a prostitute. I don’t know where he got that idea.
My favorite song of his is “Baby’s Romance”, perhaps the darkest of all his songs. Inspired by his own accounts, the song opens up as the baby being stolen away. Continually, you get the impression that for sometime now the baby is being manipulated or subjected to something he doesn’t want. This action is done clandestinely, away from the eyes of baby’s authority, leading me to believe that this form abuse was probably sexual. After sending GH to do further research on this song, he returned with only good tidings: I was right. But the song is not so abysmal. In fact the lyrics become more empowering for the baby as the song progresses. In there, he begins to show that the baby is capable of independent thoughts; the baby would rather sleep in a dilapidated cot than to sleep with his captor. Here, the baby’s mature and slightly resentful of his captor. This is ultimately resolving this manner by having to turn his captor in because, poignantly, “now fighting’s a part of baby’s romance”.
At least that’s my interpretation of it.
To conclude this short, but time-elongated article, Chris Garneau’s songs are intended to bring forth nostalgia, however in that he also manages to casts shadows of realism. But I think GH said it best when it came to this guy: “don’t ever listen to him while under the influence of anything; they’re potent enough to make you depressed if you misinterpret.”
