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)