Customer Reviews

50 Words For Snow

5 star:		(46)
4 star:		(18)
3 star:		(8)
2 star:		(9)
1 star:		(6)

 

 

After more than 30 years of writing and recording music unlike anything anyone else produces, Kate Bush, a serious artist disguised as an almost accidental pop star, is as well-known for her musical eccentricities as for her imaginative lyrics, stunning vocals, and lush aural landscapes, and there is no doubt that "50 Words for Snow" could only have been conceived and created by Kate Bush. From the first moments of its quiet opening piano chords and choir-boy vocal performed by her son, Bertie, she takes us on a journey deep into the heart of Winter in a series of seven songs, each of which revels in the contemplative and introspective, rather as if we're sitting with her by a fire while she sits at her piano musing on the nature of love, life, language, and the album's central theme, snow. It's an incredibly intimate experience, listening to the first three tracks: "Snowflake," in which Bertie sings the role of a falling snowflake which Bush encourages to 'keep falling, I'll find you' as she repeats the sad refrain, 'The world is so loud'; "Lake Tahoe," in which she and and counter-tenor Stefan Roberts tell the story of a Victorian woman's ghost who keeps appearing to wander around the cold lake, calling to her lost dog; and, perhaps strangest and most intriguing of all, "Misty", an unabashedly sensual song about a snowman who comes to life and makes love to the narrator, leaving her alone in soaked sheets and covered with bits of dead leaves in the morning. This triptych is built around Bush's simple vocals, jazzy piano, Steve Gadd's quiet but precise drumming, and bassist Danny Thompson's lovely bass lines, becoming denser and more complex as the songs progress. It's almost impossible to tell when one song ends and the next begins, even though Bush has said this album is not meant to be understood as a single piece of music à la Disc 2 of "Aerial: A Sky of Honey." But it feels as though it should be--it's hard to imagine pulling out one track and listening to it mixed in with other songs by other artists, or even by Bush herself.

The mood shifts a bit with the fourth track, "Wild Man", the only single from the album. On this song guest star Andy Fairweather Low joins her in the rousing chorus of a tale of a group who, while trekking through the Himalayas, come upon evidence of the elusive Yeti, the 'Wild Man' of the title, and join the local lamas and sherpas to erase all tracks so as to protect it from discovery (like all Kate Bush albums, this one is a collection of unusual stories and characters--she has never been an autobiographer, but almost a short story writer). Track five has generated the most mixed reviews so far, as she and Elton John trade vocals as lovers forever separated by events that span time (from the burning of Rome to 9/11 in New York City) on "Snowed in on Wheeler Street"; his performance here is a bit too muscular to sit quite comfortably beside her more delicate one, but his voice is strong and emotional, and they are convincing as an eternally star-crossed couple. Actor Stephen Fry guests on the title track, reciting Bush's fanciful list of "50 Words for Snow" in the guise of a language professor, cunningly named Joseph Yupik, the name of a Siberian-dwelling people, against a backdrop of rather agitated guitar-centered music. It is the least interesting song on the album, but again, if one listens to the entire hour-long record as one piece of music, it fits in well enough, and certainly opens a window onto her sense of humor (she made up many of the words--"spangladasha," "swans-a-melting," "stellatundra," and even includes one in Klingon). She closes the album with the simple piano ballad, "Among Angels," the only song not directly to do with Winter or snow, but which calls to mind falling back and making snow angels, and takes us out of the album with the same quiet with which it opened.

At 53 years old her voice has aged into a mellow, much lower register which she uses to great advantage, both singing and performing spoken word sections in some of the songs. But where her age shows most clearly is in the album's quiet authority. For all its extravagant imaginings (some would say "silly," an adjective I suspect she'd be fine with), she evinces no doubt at all about the strength of the album. 2005's "Aerial" was a no-holds-barred foray into the glory of nature on a Summer's day in the sunshine and then a night swimming under a starry sky, and it's narrative and musical thrust took us outdoors to enjoy birdsong, laughter, the ocean--the intense joy of being alive in the natural world. "50 Words for Snow" is that album's counterpoint, shutting us inside on a cold day to roam through a fantastical, but beautiful, interior world in a wistful, rather than joyous frame of mind. The album is long (just over an hour) and requires that one slow down and listen; there are no catchy hooks or pop-chart climbers, but what's on offer instead is a break from chaos and a noisy, intrusive world. Writing about "Aerial" one critic said that no other recording artist allows us such unfettered access to her imagination, and true to form, Kate has again issued an invitation to join her her in that unique place. Settle in, turn the stereo up loud, and enjoy.

(For those who find similarities in this review to the album's Wikipedia article, this isn't a copy and paste job: I wrote most of that article. TEH)

Of any living musical artist, Kate Bush is the one who best understands her materials - music, voice, silence and words - and how to use them. She confessed in an interview this week (Nov 22, 2011) that she has lost interest in writing pop songs. For anyone else this would be a disaster; for Kate and for us it is a godsend. Pop music is really for teenagers after all; this album is for grownups. In 50WFS Kate has pared back her trademark lush layering of sound to key elements, yet they are used more artfully than in any of her previous work. It is recognizably Kate, but with a new kind of muscle and power that calls to mind the martial artist - someone who is at once both peacefully gentle and powerfully able - even dangerous.

You should listen to this album as an album: snow is a subtle, fragile, beautiful and often deadly substance. As we move into the songs we are guided through landscapes of beauty, death, absence, mystery, unification, humor and joy. Each song tells a story, yet all are united through Kate's unique musical approach. As one interviewer joked with her, "They won't be singing THESE songs on the X Factor." No indeed. 50WFS is in another class entirely. You likely won't get it on the first listen, and you may not get it on the third or fourth. But keep listening and the songs will open up, you'll begin to understand the great artistry at work here. Then your heart, too, will be caught up.

Only Kate has the mastery to take something as trivialized in popular culture as the Yeti and return to it the full mystery and elusiveness of the being that the lamas claim is a god. The erotic snowman of Misty IS a god - the God of the Greenwood in winter guise, summoned by the blood on her hand, and taking his one-night-stand with a human as the ancient gods were wont to do. Lake Tahoe is a place where snow can kill you rather quickly, as can falling off a cliff into the icy lake; the lonely spirit of this legend finally finds peace when her old dog comes home to her. Yet these are not ponderous or overly serious songs, they have an open, light, airy quality underpinned by darkness. Kate turns playful in the title song and enlists Stephen Fry for a roll call of 50 ever more ridiculous words for snow - even including the Klingon word: peDtaH 'ej chIS qo'.

If you are looking for a snappy pop album to jazz up your Christmas party, you are in the wrong place. But if you're willing to be adventurous, head off the trail on snowshoes, and can handle a little risk, buy the whole album - not just one or two songs - put it on, sit in a dark room with a brandy, and let Kate's magic work on you.

It may surprise people to think about it in these terms, but Kate Bush has been startling audiences with her unique artistic vision in a recording career that now extends across five decades.

She first burst into public view as a teenager in 1978 with her hit single "Wuthering Heights" and debut album The Kick inside. It was then - and remains today - difficult to comprehend that a work so accomplished, so fully realised (and at times, so deeply personal and confronting) could have been produced by a precocious 19 year old.

The 1980s would prove to be challenging decade for many artists who thrived in the 70s. But Bush flourished, producing a peerless trilogy of boldly experimental and startlingly beautiful albums: The Dreaming (1982); Hounds of Love (1985) and The Sensual World (1989). While the 1990s would prove to be more difficult for Bush artistically (and in some respects personally), after a 12 year absence, she returned in 2005 triumphantly, and at the peak of her powers, with the release of the ambitious double album Aerial.

And now, in another new decade, Kate Bush has, for the first time since 1978, rewarded her patient admirers with two new releases. It is probably fair to say that the first of these two, Director's Cut - which featured reworked material from two earlier albums - confused, and divided her very passionate fans in a way that none of her earlier releases had.

However, there is every reason to believe that 50 Words For Snow will come to be viewed as yet another startling triumph. Apart perhaps from the first single, "Wild Man", 50 Words, bears little discernable relationship sonically to anything she has produced before. Its lengthy tracks (only 7 songs over a 65 minute playing time) are linked by the snowy theme. They are intimate, even jazzy at times, and are decidedly more impressionistic than anything she has released before. But even on a first hearing, this is unmistakably Kate Bush, and it has all the emotional depth, haunting beauty and romantic lyricism of the best of her work.

Bush continues to see passion and the possibility of beauty and love in places no one else would think to look - she feels lust for a snowman in "Misty" and compassion for a yeti in "Wild Man". She duets beautifully with her son against a fragile backdrop of gently falling notes ("Snowflake") and with an uncharacteristically subdued Elton John she sings of undying love in "Snowed In at Wheeler Street". The accompaniment, compared at least to her usually lush productions, is starkly minimalistic, but this gentle minimalism is apt given the notionally frigid themes of the album.

But in truth, 50 Words For Snow represents anything but a bleak winter - Bush extracts unimagined warmth and grandeur from the subject matter as only she can. And whether this turns out to be a final recording, or there is still the promise of a new spring to come we should feel blessed that we have once again be allowed to enter her unique and wondrous world.

A must have album for anyone who ever loved her work.
Jason Monaghan

I loved it. It's subtle, barren, empty. Reminds me to walking the barren snow fields behind my house in NY with the chilly moon shining on me as a kid. Some of the songs made me cry. I love that it's totally out of step with anything that's happening or expected...from artists current or veteran. I also feel that in seven songs Kate Bush did what Tori Amos failed to do on the 14 songs on "Night Of Hunters".

This album took me to a different time and place. I could only listen to it with my phone and computer off, lyrics in hand, no one in the room. The deep blue electricity of these songs only connect with the parts of myself I don't really share, if that makes sense.

In a world of noise and chaos...this is an album of space and silences. To me this album is just as important as anything Kate ever did. Drawing from the chaos of the 1980s Kate gave us the madness of THE DREAMING. Drawing from the chaos of modern times Kate reminded us of the snowy, empty, lost fields where some people still wander and hope. 5 stars, for sure.

Disregard the 1 & 2 star reviews from the Ritalin generation ( waaahhh...the songs are too long, the songs are too slow, too weird). There's a reason most every major publication that features music reviews have given this album high marks.
The duet w/ Elton John, though not as bad as I'd feared, is one I will mostly be skipping. Though it won't be to a lot of people's liking, I enjoyed the title track and Stephen Frye's contribution. My favorite at the moment is "Misty".
For the discerning, and those who aren't holding their breath for the next "Running Up That Hill" or "Wuthering Heights", there is lots of great music here. I think fans of Aerial and Sensual World will love "50 Words For Snow".

Here's my two cents about the whole debate (as opposed to a detailed description of the album--which many a reviewer has already carried out with accuracy and passion). In my opinion (and with the utmost respect for the fans who did like this album, from whose opinion I am now about to dissent) the problem with 50 Words is not that KB is being too experimental (as one disappointed reviewer diagnosed), but the exact opposite. The problem (again, in my view) is that KB stopped being cutting-edge and experimental after the Red Shoes--her last great album (although, arguably, a highly imperfect one: even what you may call a "great failure"). The foreboding that things were going downhill was already in Aerial--in all respects a far superior album to 50 Words; yet, one marred by analogous mushiness and blandness.

It's hardly ever a good sign when an artist takes a 12-year break. And when they come back reborn in a New Age-y style, offering up a solipsistic scenario full of chirping birds and cooing babies, there's more than enough to make a lucid fan alarmed. For the chirping and the cooing and the solipsism come at a price. Already in Aerial, in fact, the waning of melodic and harmonic inventiveness is apparent--despite the high points. 50 Words, then, is but the culmination of this depressing tendency (a function of aging? Not always: Tom Waits or Bob Dylan come to mind, for a counterexample of still "biting" artists).

A fan observed that KB publicly admitted to her loss of interest in writing pop music. But is it really a matter of pop versus non-pop? Isn't KB precisely one of the few great musicians who, back in the day, made an extremely compelling case for the elevation of pop/rock music into the realm of "real art"? (in the Dreaming, above all, but even in the much-reviled The Red Shoes: is there anything in her later production that could even remotely match the disturbing sultriness of Lily, the heart-wrenching, quirky power of And So Is Love or Solomon Song?).

50 Words has nothing to do with having discarded pop music in favor of higher musical pursuits. What it really comes down to is inventiveness and vitality, regardless of the "genre". When you gauge those factors, crucial in every assessment of an artist's work, the dearth of both is stunning in 50 Words--a monotonous, self-indulgent, and ultimately lifeless variation on a couple of puny ideas stretched out ad nauseam. I can find no trace of the daring greatness (no other way of calling it) that lent such an electrifying, unsettling edge to each and every one of her pre-Aerial albums, like a shriek reaching deep into the unconscious and shattering one's comfortable, preconceived views of what a pop song (and maybe reality at large?) should sound like.

I, for one, can only hope KB will outgrow this phase, swerve once more in daring directions, and get her groove back (although by now it seems less and less likely). On the other hand, real faith is unshakeable, and when her next CD comes out, hopefully in shorter order, I'll still be there snatching it up. All the beauty KB has injected into the world deserves far more than that.

Thank you for reading. I will appreciate feedback. Especially, if you think there is something I failed to see in 50 Words that deserves praise I will be very happy to hear your point. Deep down I really wish I could like this more...

Somewhat mixed emotions concerning this one. I like that it's a concept album, in the vein of Hounds of Love or Aerial, so there is a certain kind of coherence to it. It's also good that she keeps on exploring, like she always has done, her own paths without concern to what's currently hot or on the charts. There are some problems with this album though which keep it from reaching the excellent. These problems are:

- we don't hear her enough. When I buy a KB album, I would like to hear her sing. This wish is jarred on this album by two facts: 1) there are a lot of guest vocalists on the album and they are given too much prominence, and 2) a lot of the passages where we hear her voice are spoken. E.g. I put on this album and I don't hear her voice but instead that of her son; she comes in only considerably later. At the start I was like "Oh, is this Kate Bush? She does sound strange nowadays.", only later realising it was her son's voice. On the single Wild Man we hardly hear her singing vocals at all; in the verses she's speaking and in the chorus her voice is drowned by guest vocalists. The presence of Stephen Fry or Elton John doesn't disturb me, but in other passages Kate shouldn't be shy or afraid to let her own singing voice be heard; it's as if she is aware her voice is different nowadays and tries to cover it with different means. Her voice is by no means soaring or bold or experimental like it used to be sometimes before, but it's not so bad she should try to cover it - why make an album at all in that case? About the only track satisfactory in this sense is the album closer "Among Angels", a piano ballad which, although not as great as e.g. "This Woman's Work" at least allows her voice to be heard well enough and undisturbed by other factors, and this track also shows she's still got it.

- the sound quality on the album. Like heard on Director's Cut, she seems to be nowadays fond of a softer, analogue or even "muffled" effect in her recordings. Although this is not so evident here as on Director's Cut, there is still the question, could these songs sound better if the end result would be a bit clearer or crispier? Snow and winter are, after all, associated with adjectives like clear, pure, crispy..., too.

- repetitiveness. It could be argued that a certain repetitiveness helps create the mood or the atmosphere of a song, but the repetition here amounts to numbing. Also, repetition is used where it certainly doesn't add to the atmosphere, like on Wild Man or the title track. A certain amount of further editing would have been welcome; e.g. the first title, Snowflake, feels too monotonous because despite the length of the track nothing much happens. This repetitiveness is also a dividing effect that works on some while others will find it offputting. However, a bit more inventiveness wouldn't have hurt matters.

- too melancholic. OK, of course the atmosphere of the album is intentional, but couldn't there be something joyful about snow and winter, as well? This could have given some welcome variation to the album, as well.

These initial problems aside, the album has its delightful moments. The title track shows some humour and quirkiness and it's my favourite track on the album. In it, Kate urges a professor named Joseph Yupik, played by Stephen Fry, to recite 50 words for snow and he comes up with imaginative and absurd names, urged by Kate to go on. Some of these are quite funny, but the funniest thing is to try to figure out why this recital is happening in the first place - are they trying to compete with the eskimos? This track shows signs of the mad Kate Bush of e.g. The Dreaming era (although the song itself is very different from anything on the said album). Also, the whimsical chorus is one of the better ones on the album.

Other strong points: Snowflake, despite the afore-mentioned monotousness, is a nice dialogue between a falling snowflake (performed by Kate's son Bertie) and a person trying to catch it (Kate herself). Lake Tahoe and Misty have their atmosphere and are material for repeated listenings. Snowed In... is a good duet and has at least a chorus you can remember afterwards, in contrast to some other tracks here where the melody is more abstract.

I've only listened to this album a few times and it might still grow on me; I certainly hope so, before I decide to put the album aside altogether, having grown wary of it. A tie between two and three stars, but because I do love Kate, it's a three.

I just bought it, I didn't need to listen to samples before.
Put it on in the car driving home in the dark.
Cold outside, end of november.
And listened until I came home.

Later in the evening, kids in bed, I put it on again.
And I let the blancket of songs cover me and relaxed.

If there is one cd that can sooth your longing for spring, this is it.
From the first note to the last you can feel the snow flakes hover down to earth, or drift around the house. No matter the rythm of the song, snow is everywhere. The listener a spectator from inside, gazing in winter's marvelous - our dreading - aspect.

With the help of the sound engineer Kate's voice and piano blend pefectly. Hear the silence between notes - as important as the notes themselves.

Just get this album now. Don't hesitate.
This is an instant masterpiece.

From the opening line of "I was born in a cloud" the 9-minute opening track that evokes the quietness of remembrances of walks through a virgin snowfall where Kate is pleading for someone to catch her as she is falling, falling, falling....like a snowflake in slow motion swirl to earth to her screaming "Let me hear your 50 words for snow" like she is in a sexual ecstasy on the tribal sounding title track. It's a "must own" for Kate Bush fans and lovers of experimental music. Her voice is fragile, powerful, beautiful, unreal, grounded, floating, erotic and many other adjectives all at once. The track list, while small, offers up long compositions...the shortest being 7 minutes. Nothing "radio-friendly", either...which I couldn't care less about.

I got to hear it several times before it went on sale thanks to NPR's "first listen" and it is so beautiful and it is very compelling and her voice does not sound like tires screeching on a wet road (that is a good thing for this listener) as it has sometimes in the past and the stark use of drums and violins support her breathy, etherial voice, making this record true art. There is no "single" off this record and you can't dance to it. It's the type of art that you want to savor in one 67 minute sitting with the beverage of your choice and if snow happens to be falling outside of your window as you cozy up to this recording and maybe your fireplace, then all the better for you. Her piano playing has a light touch as well and it weaves in and out instead of being a main instrument.

Snow has it's jazzy moments, it's rocking moments but mostly it is a quiet, fluid record that demands that you listen with an open heart. I think it's probably the best work she has ever done as an album as a whole (although it has nothing as powerful as Wuthering Heights or anything that will make you immediately cry like The Man with the Child in his Eyes) this is one record that is a whole work and not really just a collection of unrelated songs. All songs evoke memories of winter weather even to the point of "Wild Man" where she is accusing this person of leaving footprints in the snow as a way of finding the unfindable. Or trying to define the undefinable.

You know you want it... How many years have you been waiting, hoping for a new release from Kate? Give it to yourself as an early Christmas gift. This record does not disappoint, unless you are looking for something extremely powerful in a loud way. And if you are new to Kate Bush and love electronica melded with piano and strings with a lovely voice guiding the sound, buy it. OH! And Sir Elton John makes an appearance on this record and it's a great kind of unusual duet and the most rocking track on "Snowed in at Wheeler Street" where Kate suggests that she get a rope and ties them together because they have lost each other so much but have caught glimpses of each other all over the world before this final confrontation.

The most "typical" KB sounding song to me is the final track "Angels" so if you can only afford to download one song, this is the one you want.

I first heard Kate Bush when Running Up That Hill received airplay in Nov. 1985. I immediately bought the 12-inch single and loved it. After buying Hounds Of Love a couple of months later, I discovered a completely different side to her music. I had never heard anything like the second half of Hounds Of Love, titled The Ninth Wave, and haven't since -- until 50 Words For Snow. If you were moved more by tracks like Hello Earth than Running Up That Hill, you will fall in love with this masterpiece. Before this release, I considered Hounds Of Love -- and more specifically The Ninth Wave -- Kate Bush's finest work. The first three tracks -- Snowflake, Lake Tahoe and Misty -- are the greatest 35 minutes of music since The Ninth Wave, with many similar elements musically and thematically. On Snowflake, the vocal from Kate's son, Albert, is perfect. In all three tracks, the lyrics and music are stunning and not one second too long. Lake Tahoe and Misty are perhaps the two greatest songs in Kate's catalog. Wild Man -- the catchy single -- follows and has become one of my favorite Kate singles. Snowed In At Wheeler Street sounds like The Sensual World/The Red Shoes era Kate, and is also a great song delivered with incredible emotion. 50 Words For Snow is amazing and fun -- new-sounding Kate that's an instant classic. Among Angels -- reminiscent of Kate's earliest piano songs -- has really grown on me. It's a beautiful song to bring the set to a close. To get the most out of this album, it should be played in its entirety through a great system or nice headphones.

The song cycle feels like the passage of winter as Kate paints musical landscapes like no other. The season begins: "It's midnight at Christmas," Albert sings in Snowflake. Lake Tahoe feels very post-holidays/January to me. Misty and Wild Man are the heart of winter. Snowed In At Wheeler Street feels like late winter and 50 Words sums it all up at the end. Finally, Among Angels moves the listener from winter into spring. The snow has melted and life begins blooming -- after a long season of fear of being lost/lonely. I could see playing the B-side You Want Alchemy immediately after this album for spring and then heading into summer with Aerial's second half -- A Sky of Honey. With the autumnal feel of The Sensual World's Never Be Mine and Rocket's Tail, she has all the seasons covered!

There isn't anything I'd change about this album. I think it's her best since Hounds Of Love, and quite possibly better. I think 50 Words For Snow and Hounds Of Love are the only albums in my musical collection where I wouldn't take away or add anything. Kudos to Kate for following her own brilliant path.