Customer Reviews

Hyacinths & Thistles

5 star:		(11)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

I am puzzled by the criticism this album has been garnering. It is earnest, electro-cabaret music sung by some of the most distinctive voices in indie/alt.pop music.

Composition-wise, Merrit keeps it simple. The arrangements are bare-bones, vocals front-and-center, making it easy to focus on some of his most honest and "adult" lyrics to date.True, this record isn't much fun. But it is true and beautiful and immensely sad. Momus's singing on the first track is a highlight, as is the enchanting "sailor who's in love with the sea". These are grown-up songs about grown-up emotions.

It is not the bullet-proof jugernaut "69 Love songs" was, but it isn't meant to be. It's not the party record "Wasps nest" was... but it certainly isn't meant to be that... listen alone in the dark when your heartstrings break. You will hear the sound of a life and a love laid bare. Absolutely heartbreaking stuff.

I suspect that those people who wrote less-than-positive reviews of this album did so without giving it a chance. These are not "one night stand" songs that you jump and thrash around to for a brief moment before moving onto something else. These are songs that you will end up burning on mix CDs you make for your girlfriend, or playing when you miss someone, or having on in the background while you do dishes because they make even that pleasant. They are beautiful songs, sometimes haunting, and perfectly express some of those difficult-to-pin-down relationship moments as only Stephin Merritt can.

This being the first record involving Stephin Merritt I've listened to, can't respond to the comparisons with his other records and projects. I've had it in my car CD player for 2 months... it has been the soundtrack to my life, and its power continues to grow. So for me it's very much a whole now; the songs complement and resonate against each other in different ways each time I hear it, and the different timbres of voice populate a complex inner world of dreams. "As you turn to go" would/will probably be on my list of "songs that made me cry" if I would only hear it under certain circumstances... In time even the overblown and out of tune "Volcana" developed a fevered charm and replayed itself in my head. Lovely, timeless, keeper record. If Amazon hadn't deleted my listmania lists, this would've made one...

I'm a bit baffled by the harsh words being thrown around concerning this disc. I wonder if it was written by teenagers. And although I think they have a lot to say about music - I love to watch them crying on MTV - this record is the most adult record Stephin has ever done. Those who scoff at Momus on "As You Turn To Go," might not have loved without reciprocation yet. Well, to be fair they probably have, and it was most likely earth-shattering, but only in later years will it really sink in. Wasp's Nests was a fun record and every song was catchy. But Hyacinths and Thistles will truely stand the test of time. To me, the only song worth caring about on the first 6ths record was, "When I'm Out of Town." The songs on this disc linger in the same realm that that song touched apon. Grab this record and appreciate it - it might help you out one day.

I disagree completely with the Amazon reviewer regarding the cohesiveness of this album. Each track is minimal and subtly arranged, with strong vocal performances from the guest artists. As we've come to expect from Merritt, the recurring theme is love gone sour and moments of fleeting happiness in a blighted life. While Wasps' Nests was a compendium of carnivalesque synth pop featuring a roster of indie luminaries, Hyacinths and Thistles is a more cabaret-like affair, with more stylized vocals and less emphasis on sing-along choruses. In that sense, I would say Wasps' Nests is more of a tribute album than this one, which reflects the diversity of 69 Love Songs in a fraction of the time while retaining the discipline and structure of a proper song cycle. My one complaint is the 24 minutes of languid descending synths that closes the album...10 minutes would have been more than enough.

I am puzzled by the criticism this album has been garnering. It is earnest, electro-cabaret music sung by some of the most distinctive voices in indie/alt.pop music.

Composition-wise, Merrit keeps it simple. The arrangements are bare-bones, vocals front-and-center, making it easy to focus on some of his most honest and "adult" lyrics to date.True, this record isn't much fun. But it is true and beautiful and immensely sad. Momus's singing on the first track is a highlight, as is the enchanting "sailor who's in love with the sea". These are grown-up songs about grown-up emotions.

It is not the bullet-proof jugernaut "69 Love songs" was, but it isn't meant to be. It's not the party record "Wasps nest" was... but it certainly isn't meant to be that... listen alone in the dark when your heartstrings break. You will hear the sound of a life and a love laid bare. Absolutely heartbreaking stuff.

Okay, Mr. Merritt- the joke is on us. Maybe I'm guilty of coming into this record with too high expectations. The first 6ths album is possibly my favorite recording of his...so I was excited to see the long awaited return of the 6ths. Ho hum. While the production is a nice midway point between the sugary bombast of Future Bible Heroes and the barely produced 69 Love Songs, the song structures themselves are so simple as to be annoying. They never build, the beats never kick in, the songs just plod along on the tune of a few sounds, be it synthesizer or zither. This kind of sparseness would be acceptable if there were great words and vocals to go along with it, but, alas- few are to be found. Merritt is really focusing in on this pseudo-Tin Pan Alley thing, featuring Katherine Whalen of the Squirrel Nut Zippers and "Ms. Lily Banquette" of Combustible Edison fame- not to mention making Bob Mould sound like a ragtime singer (no mean feat, that). What struck me about early Magnetic Fields records was the emotional output. Even when things got sarcastic or exaggerated they still came from something real. Now Merritt has become so in love with his own (rapidly waning) cleverness that the songs don't mean anything. This record is filled with inexplicable Hawaii references, names of famous people, blah blah blah. Who cares? Everything he keeps expanding on seems based on "Tokyo a Go-Go" instead of "Summer Lies" or "When You Were My Baby." The vocal melodies also tend to sound like tunes he's already written. There's not much variety on this album. Maybe I'm in a bad mood- maybe it's really funny and I just need to loosen up- but mostly I feel like I've been had. When the descending synthesized arpeggios (tell me that's not an Omnichord) of "Oahu" continue after the singer stops, you expect the record to end. But it doesn't. This sound just keeps going and going, slowing down ever so gradually...and after 20 minutes I turned the CD player off. Stephen Merritt, you are not Terry Riley. Was this supposed to be funny? Relaxing? Again, he seems so in love with his own tricks that there's nothing left for the listener to connect with or enjoy. Too bad.

Just gorgeous. This is my second Stephin Merritt CD with the 3 vol. 69 Love Songs being the first. I got chills listening to most of these songs *especially the wonderful Sarah Cracknell* and I laughed out loud at the wit and cleverness of the lyrics. I beg to differ with the reviewer above who says the album is not cohesive. It fits together beautifully and (the 25 minute outro on the last track notwithstanding) it flows well from start to finish.

This is a great little CD. Comparisons to other Merritt works are inevitable, but I'm disappointed at the harshness of some of the criticism here. One reviewer slagged the female singers and one said he had no interest in checking out Odetta. If "Waltzing Me All the Way Home" doesn't break your heart, I question your humanity. This is one of my favorite songs by anyone anywhere at any time; no silky smooth singer could have done it justice.

The prettiest and saddest little songs--sung by sad and pretty voices--I've heard this year. It's a pomo cabaret of longing and losing, with songs that are often brief and spare, accompanied by a single instrument (piano, toy piano, accordion, zither), and sometimes, of course, Stephin Merritt's trademark synths. The best songs (Sally Timms' delicate, aching Give Me Back My Dreams; the lush, winsome Kissing Things, sung by Sarah Cracknell of St. Etienne; He Didn't, a heartbreaking pairing of title to lyrics, with Bob Mould's voice as rich and heady as cognac; the toy-like Lindy Lou, sung by Miho Hatori of Cibo Matto; Gary Numan's The Sailor In Love with the Sea, which can only be described as Gary-Numan-esque; Katharine Whalen's sweet, '40s-ish You You You You You; the wry misanthropy of The Dead Only Quickly, sung by Neil Hannon of the Divine Comedy; the surreally odd I've Got New York by a drunk-sounding Melanie) are a perfect union of arrangement and voice. The others manage to succeed on the merits of their inherently clever and interesting songwriting, even when their potential is slightly hampered by their production or a singer whose voice isn't quite right. "Let the poets struggle to describe your heart, your art of love and your love of art/ But if you ever loved me, tell me so, as you turn to go," sings Momus on As You Turn To Go. It breaks your heart, and you're thankful for it.