Canadian songwriter and pals create beguiling new indie-country shapes.
Although Whitney K is widely characterised as being the artistic expedient of itinerant Canadian musician Konner Whitney (see what he did there?), his latest recording venture ‘Bubble’ feels much more like a band project than his/their previous recordings. Whitney himself is responsible for all the lyrics here but the musical backings are credited to the core band responsible for recording them in their ‘home studio’ in Montreal. This is mostly Whitney himself alongside Josh Boguski, Michael Halls and Avalon Tassonyi, with support from James Perry. There are other supplementary musicians on ‘Bubble’ but for the most part this is the line-up that has worked on Whitney K’s recent records. Here they deliver a raw and restrained set of songs nourished by warm and languorous arrangements that further advance the cause of this kind of gentle lo-fi countryfied indie.
Whitney himself is known for his lithe, poetic and resonant lyricism and ‘Bubble’ is another songwriterly record. One for which it is impossible to shake the sense that it is more about the songs than the performances or even the experience of those listening to it. He describes ‘Bubble’ as a “13-part cerebral mystery”, which, apart from the self-aggrandisement of anointing yourself as ‘cerebral and mysterious’, is a decent enough invocation of what it feels like trying to decipher meaning from the LP. It’s a tricky endeavour. The overall gist of the record or the specific intention of particular songs, even couplets, remains tantalisingly out of reach for the most part.
There are references to other artists that act as markers of where Whitney K are/want to be. In ‘TV Dreaming’ the opening line “I was dreaming of the past” quotes from ‘Jealous Guy’ and the song mainlines Lennon’s knowing sentimentality (though without the undercurrent of narcissistic self-justification). In ‘Heaven’ he spits out “Jesus Christ I’m bored” as if mirroring Iggy circa ‘New Values’ and this seems at odds with the rest of the song given that the Springsteen aping verse “It can be hard for tramps like us, When the only way out might kill you first” hints at a moving on narrative. In a song knowingly titled ‘Jolene’, Whitney calls up a “Tiny dancer on the rooftop” and seems to concern himself with a protagonist who also mixes with music men “backstage at the rock show”.
Despite (or maybe because of) all this, ‘Bubble’ still manages to sound clever and poetic in a kind of obtuse but deadpan way – sort of like if Steve Wright wrote lyrics instead of comedy. As this suggests, there is an undercurrent of humour percolating throughout ‘Bubble’ but what emerges clearest (though that’s a relative concept here) out of the poetic fug are themes of stoicism, acceptance and self-awareness. He seems to be suggesting that if we just get on with life we’ll be able to make something meaningful… or at worst bearable… out of our existence. An idea that he finally registers with the record’s very last couplet: “Waking up feeling new, Nothing better than nothing to do, Lately, I’ve been doing all right”
‘Bubble‘s sound effectively mirrors this message of resigned yet resilient forbearance. The aforementioned ‘Heaven’ couches its ruminations in sonics that bring to mind Lambchop with a side of Wilco-esque electronic noise bluster. ‘Something Strange’ channels the stately lope of the Beta Band and mid-period Cornershop atop a nifty Velvet’s chug. Reed surfaces again on ‘Morning After’ with a lovely gentle strum that progresses with the feel of ‘Sunday Morning’ or ‘Pale Blue Eyes’ and a hefty dose of 80’s UK indie. There’s more of this on ‘Sunshine2’ which makes a virtue of underselling the delivery in a supremely down to earth Sarah Records vibe. Then ‘Jolene’ has a feel of Eels’ E at his most reflective and melancholy. Overall the overall sound of ‘Bubble’ is perhaps closest to the obscurely wonderful Butterflies of Love, which is a compliment indeed.
This basic but fully realised recording is Whitney K’s most effective work to date. It is familiar enough to engage us from the off yet manages to find slightly twisted new shapes for music that we think we have heard many times before. It feels at once vague and energetically focussed, a combination that will draw us back to it long after the initial buzz has worn off.
