Swanlights, the fourth full-length by
Antony and the Johnsons, reveals that 2009's
The Crying Light was a stepping stone that furthered Antony (now
Anohni)'s sophistication as a songwriter, arranger, and singer. While that album's tunes about acceptance, death, transformation, and loss were added to immeasurably by
Nico Muhly's gorgeous string arrangements,
Swanlights employs the same band, this time augmented by a chamber orchestra.
Anohni uses her voice on this set as much as a textural element in her songs as she does to deliver poetic, and sometimes head-scratchingly obtuse lyrics, like "Elect the salt mother, for she is a selective Christ." These songs engage with popular genres from folk-rock to grand classical chamber orchestral, but they do touch on vanguard art song as well. Their themes often comment on the natural world -- a huge part of
Anohni's moral conscience -- but lyrically, this is a more difficult album to pin down. Album-opener "Everything Is New" features one of her standard tropes: using a repetitive piano line and her voice to play upon the title in various ways, breaking the words up in various combinations and cadences to create a mantra-like effect before bringing in the band, for a near-modal exploration to hang her lyrics on. "The Great White Ocean" follows it, still using that theme, before becoming its own lovely, near-nursery rhyme; it sounds like a prayer adorned with acoustic guitars,
Julia Kent's cello and
Anohni's vocal softly moan between and after the verses. "I'm in Love" feels a bit like
Steve Reich scoring an early-'60s
Doc Pomus song, with winds, strings, upright bass, drums, and piano all melding in an almost fingerpopping, soulful anthem to romance. "The Spirit Was Gone" is a haunting meditation on death, with
Anohni accompanied by
Kent and a small orchestra, but it's countered by the almost shimmering pop of "Thank You for Your Love." The strangeness of "Fletta," an Icelandic duet with
Bjoerk, is in a genre all its own and departs markedly from the rest of the album's contents. The voices are accompanied only by
Anohni's piano. The sparse phrasing is nonetheless insistent, its melody walking the margins of folk and classical minimalism (if the latter was heard by
Kurt Weill). Classical aspirations continue on "Salt Silver Oxygen," but these songs as a whole feel like a place where
Van Dyke Parks might be entertained by the spring-like harmonies of
Vaughan Williams' songs. Ultimately, in mood, ambition, and execution,
Swanlights is a testament to
Anohni's increasingly iconoclastic -- yet gorgeously accessible -- brand of art pop. ~ Thom Jurek