Neko Case III

Held at the Right Angle

Neko Case's New Album is More About Words Than Vocals

By Andrew Clayman
Published in The Nashville Scene, October 2013

 
It's a bit perplexing to think that Neko Case — the preferred "chanteuse" and/or "siren" of the NPR demographic — began her musical career not as a singer, but as a drummer, shy behind her cymbals for a series of '90s punk bands in the Pacific Northwest. In retrospect, Case's greatest talent was somehow going wholly unnoticed. And in a strange twist — some 20 years later — the same thing might be happening again.

After a four-year break following the highest charting album of her career (2009's Middle Cyclone hit No. 3 on the Billboard chart), Case released her sixth full-length solo LP in September. Titled The Worse Things Get, the Harder I Fight, the Harder I Fight, the More I Love You, it loosely chronicles the singer-songwriter's struggles with depression and loss following the deaths of several family members and friends during her recording hiatus. At 43, Case's much-celebrated pipes remain as pure as the driven snow — which she presumably sees plenty of on the quiet Vermont farm she calls home. It's her skills as a wordsmith, however, that demand attention like never before.

"[Writing this record] was more like emotional stomach flu," Case tells the Scene. "I was having a hard time with loss, and it's not what I wanted to be writing about at all. I wanted to write stories. But it was just all I was capable of at the time. In hindsight, I like the work, but trying to unite the songs for the record was a real chore. I don't regret it, though."

In terms of tone, The Worse Things Get is a far cry from early Case albums, like 1997's The Virginian (1997) and 2000's Furnace Room Lullaby, when her Patsy Cline-caliber croon first starting earning admirers. Back then, Case was belting "Oh my darlin'!" in a dressed-up drawl, eliciting hoots and hollers from barroom onlookers. The power of her voice was undeniable, but it wasn't entirely her own yet. To Case's credit, she still records with many of the same talented musicians from that era, including vocalist Kelly Hogan, guitarist Jon Rauhouse, bassist Tom Ray and Calexico's Joey Burns and John Convertino.

"I just picked the right people the first time," Case says. "You know what they say — if it ain't broke ..."

Cast of characters aside, though, the Neko Case playbook has gradually been completely rewritten over the years — starting with 2002's Blacklisted — as she's learned to mine and refine the full spectrum of her voice, not to mention the words it communicates and scenes it paints. On The Worse Things Get, it's reached the point that it may be the lyrics — perhaps even more than how they're sung — that really resonate.

"Lines often enter my head and yell themselves at me until I use them," Case says. "They can be quite bossy! I really like it. They usually are so demanding you just build the song around them."

One example Case mentions is the cryptic but oddly weight-bearing chorus of the new track "Night Still Comes," in which she mournfully but defiantly tells a former friend/lover, "You never held it at the right angle."

From there, the second verse unwinds like this:

"Did they poison my food? Is it 'cause I'm a girl? / If I puked up some sonnets, would you call me a miracle? / I'm gonna go where my urge leads no more. / Swallowed, waist-deep, in the gore of the forest / A boreal feast, let it finish me, please. / 'Cause I revenge myself all over myself. / There's nothing you can do to me."

As has been her calling card for some time, Case doesn't lob softballs in her lyric writing. But while such dense wordplay is often lauded and deeply analyzed when it comes from the likes of John Darnielle or Jeff Mangum, it seems to be perceived more as an afterthought in the general critical assessment of Case — which still usually focuses on a description of her crystalline voice and some inevitable toss-in comments on her status as a "sultry redhead." Is the lack of love for Case's songwriting putting her back behind the metaphorical drum kit again? Is it the result of a gender bias against the same woman whose latest single starts with the line, "I'm a man"? Basically, is it 'cause she's a girl?

"I can only change people's minds or perspective by being the thing I want them to see," Case says, subtly acknowledging the occasional double standards that come her way. "If they can't see it, then I accept it. And if it's helpful to anyone, I actually feel wonderful about it. If I find it obstructive in a situation directly, I move it by whatever means necessary. I use politeness and reason first — most of the time, anyway. I'm not perfect."

See Also: 2007 Neko Case Interview