Tuesday 10.19.10: SCOUT NIBLETT @ echo

Scout Niblett || Listen || Watch

On a surface level, this music can resemble PJ Harvey on Rid of Me or Nirvana on In Utero, both of which were also engineered by Niblett’s collaborator Steve Albini. The substance is closer to Cat Power’s Moon Pix and the early albums by the reclusive songwriter Jandek. Like them, Niblett has a way of making you hang on her every note, and making her guitar strings sound like some kind of fragile tether to sanity. Her voice is expressive and raw, shifting between wounded soulfulness and unhinged fury. Her songs are not uninviting, and tracks like “I.B.D.” and “Duke of Anxiety” have strong, memorable melodic hooks, but the starkness and intensity of it all makes for a very difficult and challenging record. However, on the occasions when the music connects, it is mesmerizing and uncanny whether you are directly relating to her or having a more voyeuristic experience.

The extreme intimacy implied by the recording is both fascinating and uncomfortable, but that isn’t necessarily a complaint. This is an excellent document and a successful expression of something that is clearly personal to the artist. Our comfort level and patience is beside the point, but not unimportant. Niblett’s music is very much an acquired taste, and there are few ways to enjoy this other than on her terms. She’s not oblivious to this, and she has a sense of humor about it. The black and white photograph on the cover is a sly, on-the-nose bit of dark comedy: She’s standing there waving and smiling at us as she holds up a welding torch, presumably about to set herself on fire. It’s her odd little way of welcoming an audience to what she describes on the title track as her “self-made sweat box.” It’s grim and indulgent, but not lacking in style and wit. – Pitchfork