Big Thief
Can
we welcome an unknown that stretches, terrified, into every direction? Is it
safe to grab the shrivelled, mysterious hand that reaches out to us from
darkness? A trembling voice speaks the answer clearly. The Celestial Twin. U.F.O.F.
U.F.O.F., F standing
for ‘Friend’, is the name of the highly anticipated third record by Big Thief,
set to be released by 4AD later this year. The New York-based band, featuring
Adrianne Lenker (guitar, vocals), Buck Meek (guitar), Max Oleartchik (bass),
and James Krivchenia (drums), has spent the last 4 years on an incessant world
tour, winning the devotion of an enthusiastic and rapidly expanding
audience. Their songs represent an emotional bravery and realness
that weaves intimate relationships with the listener, a phenomenon that has
made them one of the most widely-respected bands of the current era. Their
first two back-to-back releases, Masterpiece (2016) and Capacity (2017),
have been analysed, wept to, danced to, critically applauded, imitated, hummed
idly, and shouted out loud. They have soundtracked crowded restaurants,
difficult conversations, cowboy bars, yoga classes, night drives, and lonely
bedrooms.
In
2019, the members of Big Thief are more deeply bonded than ever before. Their
lives have become completely intertwined. Perpetual motion, nightly performance
and struggles of the road have led them to develop their own connective
language. They wake up and run together each morning; they intuit songs only
sung for each other. Perhaps the best Big Thief tune you will never hear is the
backstage classic, “I know what you mean. It’s a beautiful thing.” The spirit
has never been stronger and U.F.O.F. feels, to Big Thief, like
their first record as a fully realized band.
U.F.O.F. was recorded in rural western Washington at Bear
Creek Studios. In a large cabin-like room, the band set up their gear to track
live with engineer Dom Monks and producer Andrew Sarlo, who was also behind
their previous albums. Having already lived these songs on tour,
they were relaxed and ready to experiment. The raw material came quickly. Some
songs, like ‘Cattails’—written only hours before recording—stretched out
instantly, first take, vocals and all. Others were explored in search of
perfected moments of dynamic feedback and spiritual, rhythmic togetherness. A
careful New Age sprinkle of mystical textures and stabs was added and kept in
the mix only when all agreed that each element had become absolutely crucial to
the tune. The completed palette feels classic, upfront and honest, with an
occasional, welcome glimpse into the magic box.
U.F.O.F. lifts the listener, slowly, into a delicate,
celestial mystery, each member of the band adding their own visceral mastery to
its skyscape. Adrianne Lenker’s voice finds new resting places, layered like a
cloud above itself on album opener ‘Contact’ or crooning low through thick
grass on ‘Betsy’. Her finger-picked guitar chords evolve and extend into
warming harmony. Her leads beam passion and pain. Buck Meek’s exploratory notes
and avant-garde textures slither to the song’s subconscious narrative, while
James Krivchenia’s relaxed tempo and snare drum ghost notes possess your head
into a steady bob. Max Oleartchik’s bass guitar playing is elusive and
rhythmic, either crouching undetected or ripping a quick one for the
people. When his bass goes missing from the song ‘Cattails,’ imagine
him levitating above the tune in quiet meditation, waiting for that perfect
moment to slide back into the mix. The moment doesn’t come till halfway through
the next song.
Lyrically, U.F.O.F. is
a dream in the dark. Characters and scenery interact outside of time. Names of
mystery women appear, then disappear. Cruelties flash. Pronouns meld. There is
a darkness here, but it’s not one to be feared. “Making friends with the
unknown… All my songs are about this,” says Lenker; “If the nature of life is
change and impermanence, I’d rather be uncomfortably awake in that truth than
lost in denial.” Every song here casts a shadow, and the direction of this
shadow reflects its light source. On ‘Orange,’ we see a woman lost in despair,
but it is in recognition of this despair that she is truly loved. In ‘Terminal
Paradise,’ death is imminent. Death is a flower; death is beautiful. On ‘Century,’
all of the confusion of a moment leads to a simple truth that “We have the same
power”. If song writers are spelunkers of the unrevealed, then Lenker is one of
the bravest working today. This is courageous music.
When
the album’s final number drifts away into droning, alien invitations, the power
to look within our own selves has been fully transmuted. The dreamer awakes and
sees for a moment a vibrating figure disappear from the corner of the bedroom.
The door is open and future music awaits. It’s morning. Goodbye alien.