Bat for Lashes, the moniker for the young British musician Natasha Khan, begins her sophomore album, Two Suns, by claiming, “I will rise now.” Throughout that opening track, “Glass,” Khan’s reverb-drench, translucent vocals resonate the music builds in layers of strings, synths and tribal percussion. Just as she says that she will rise, the music follows suit, and as she reaches the end of the chorus, “Tonight, tonight, tonight, we ride,” the music takes off.
With 2006’s debut Fur and Gold, Khan established herself as a growing force in indie music, gaining critical acclaim with her trained, ethereal voice and knack for dark and gorgeous arrangements and soundscapes. She is caught somewhere in between the poetry and whimsy of Kate Bush and the emotional delivery and modern textures of Björk, and if anything, Two Suns proves that Bat for Lashes may someday be as vital an act as her brethren.
Khan’s power is evident in several key tracks, perhaps most notably in the aforementioned lead off track, “Glass,” as brilliant a mission statement as she can make. Amidst tom-tom thuds, her voice soars in its highest register, moody yet still subdued, and never overbearing. The energy that bounds throughout the album’s more up-tempo tracks, featuring members of Yeasayer, could be characterized into two types of songs. The first is marked by more abstract elements, with looser melodies and driven by the propulsive tribal percussion. The gospel-inspired “Peace of Mind,” and truly Björk-esque “Two Planets” fall into this category, and are among the album’s most intense moments. Likewise, other songs are held together by more traditional melodies, and pulsating, metered rhythms. The synth-pop highlight “Daniel,” as well as the somber “Sleep Alone,” where Khan sings a tragic chant of “Lonely, lonely, lonely,” over a strangely strut-able beat, mark the second category. Both groups of song provide contrast while maintaining a subtle energy.
It is in the ballads that the album’s greatest strengths and weaknesses lie. Songs like “Moon and Moon” and “Traveling Woman,” while pretty on the outset, leave little of a memory, and while the balladry fits well in the context of the album, it breaks up some of its flow. Still, two of the album’s best tracks are also some of its most reflective and gorgeous. “Siren Song” starts off innocently enough, but as its stately, slow melody wears on, it slowly builds until the lush orchestration gives way to violent percussion that causes the song to collapse upon itself, which then gives way to Khan drowning in her own reverberated voice. Likewise, the album’s closer, “The Big Sleep,” a duet with pop crooner-cum-avant-garde experimentalist Scott Walker, brings their two ghostly voices together in a truly haunting rumination on death.
Khan describes the record as “a record of modern-day fables exploring dualities on a number of levels,” even going so far as to create an alter ego for herself. The dualities certainly could extend beyond concept and lyrics and into the contrasting music that makes the record notable, but it is also in the sonic textures and Khan’s mastery of the crescendo that makes Two Suns a notable record. If Natasha Khan can maintain this sort of vitality, perhaps she can stake the same claim as her predecessors, earning the distinction of being one of indie music’s most resonant and otherworldly voices.
The end.
I apologize for not updating this thing ever, if you care enough for me to warrant you an apology. If you're that person, I have good news for you! Summer's almost here! And I don't have many concrete plans! This means that I'll be writing a lot, which is one of my top priorities for the coming months anyway. Additionally, there are plenty of upcoming releases that I'll probably have a lot to say about (new albums from Bob Dylan, Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., Art Brut, etc.) So, everyone wins, huzzah.
