Aural Fixations

ED HARCOURT
Strangers
(Astralwerks)
It may be hard for anyone who automatically pukes at the sound of James Taylor or Jackson Browne to believe, but the so-called singer/songwriter movement of the 70s produced some excellent, even cool music. Visionary artists like Harry Nilsson, Randy Newman, Joni Mitchell and, yes, Elton John came to prominence during that much-maligned decade, often touted side-by-side with the Taylors and Chapins of the world, even though they had little in common. And while it may not seem so from the army of earnest, acoustic guitar-wielding neofolkies trooping through your local acoustic nightclub, there are young singer/songwriters on the scene today who recall the best and brightest of long ago. For example: Ed Harcourt. The multi-instrumentalist showed off the products of a distinctive yet familiar muse on his prior records Here Be Monsters and , and his latest album Strangers is his most satisfying yet. "The Storm is Coming" brings the album to life like lightning animating a monster, as the music bellows and Harcourt brashly declares "The storm is coming/It's gonna make a beautiful sound/I hope it turns your life upside down." No self-effacing introspection here. "Born in the 70s" looks to the past for enlightenment in living today, while "Kids (Rise From the Ashes)" reminds that the youth are the future, even those younger than the twentysomething Harcourt. "Loneliness" acknowledges the titular emotion as a good inspiration for effervescent pop. Not everything here is self-confident brightness; Harcourt examines the human condition as much as anyone. "The Trapdoor" sedates both the dynamics and the mood, pondering humanity's seemingly innate ability to find the darkest part of itself and revel in it. "The Music Box" takes on war (though not as clearly as it could—Harcourt's social commentary is still developing) while "Only Happy When You're High," a strangely catchy dirge only on the U.S. edition, looks at a self-destructive relationship. Harcourt also shines on his contemplation of that most common of subjects: love. "Let Love Not Weigh Me Down" expresses doubt even in the midst of ecstasy; "Open Book" sifts through the ashes of an affair burned to the ground. "Something to Live For" and "This One's For You," the latter as close to confessional as Harcourt gets, both celebrate love as a good thing; it's rare these days for a young songwriter to be so open-hearted without bombast or melodrama. Wrapped in arrangements built on, but not dominated by, Harcourt's starchy vocals and nimble piano, the tunes bring to mind the best of everyone from Nilsson to Warren Zevon to Elvis Costello, but never sound like anyone but the author. Ed Harcourt has always had an abundance of wit and craft; on Strangers he's pulled his talents into tighter focus than ever before. Michael Toland [buy it]