Antony and the Johnsons - Antony and the Johnsons

By: Donna Brown

Tuesday June 14, 2005

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Genre

rock

Publisher

Secretly Canadian Records

External Links

Secretly Canadian is a label that has been involved in making the personal-well, even more personal- since its inception in the mid-1990s. Artists such as Damien Jurado, Ativin, and Songs: Ohia (now known as Magnolia Electric Co.) dot the landscape of the tiny Indiana label's back catalogue with records that sounded as if they should never have seen the light of day. Not in a bad way, just in a drunken-midnight-confession way.

Such is the case with Antony's 1997 debut, re-released following the much-deserved accolades given to his latest album, I Am a Bird Now. Much has been made of the dichotomy between Antony's imposing stature and his avant-garde drag, but it all comes down to his voice. Swooping, acrobatic, yet impossibly delicate, it reaches heights the likes of which God, much less Secretly Canadian, has never seen.

For the most part, though, Antony restrains it, unleashing it only at moments when its bone-chilling effect is most unexpected. For instance, "Cripple and the Starfish," a love story straight out of Shockheaded Peter, is made eerier by the soaring chorus. The pain that Antony sings of only makes his voice more resonant. "Deeper than Love" follows a similar path; in it, Antony exhorts a friend dying of AIDS to welcome death. In the background spiraling violins mirror the upward curves of Antony's voice. "And I have tried to shine in the darkness," he says, acknowledging the futility of his friend's struggle yet refusing to bow down to death.

Like a dying man's fever dream, this album is shrouded in loneliness, yet Antony's vocals pulse with life, shining defiantly in the face of catastrophe. This is one album that deserves to be heard a second time.