Alena Spanger
Fire Escape
PopMatters 80点相当
Pitchfork 78点相当
アヴァン・ロック・アンサンブルの
Tiny Hazard というバンドにいる(いる？)ひと
https://www.popmatters.com/alena-spanger-fire-escape-review
Alena Spanger prefers non-verbal communication. On her new album, Fire Escape, she is partial to birdsong, wind that chimes like Erik Satie, and the sound of rain hitting the roof at dawn. In Tiny Hazard, the experimental pop group she formed with college classmates, she whispered, giggled, gasped, and howled over feverish guitars and jagged basslines. Her elastic vocals, which evoke the kineticism of Björk on “It’s Oh So Quiet” and Karin Dreijer on “Heartbeats,” are often most powerful as wordless interjections—a sudden “ha!” mid-verse or a maniacal cackle at the end of a chorus. On Fire Escape, her solo debut, Spanger and a collective of fellow Brooklyn musicians construct a dreamlike atmosphere of wind instruments, harps, and synths around her operatic range.
When she does reach for words, Spanger takes inspiration from nature’s fury and splendor, rather than more muted human emotions. On the twinkling “Ines,” she’s not just paralyzed by apprehension—she is both underwater and on fire. On the slow-moving “Agios,” “a man’s pain” isn’t simply destructive—it “hollers down the mountain, with the grace of a giant.” Her loved ones are like “starfish,” and the ocean is as much an existential threat (“Fire Escape”) as a source of absolution (“Satie Song”). Spanger refers to herself in self-deprecating terms—“a fickle girl,” a “sly wicked child”—but withholds details, gesturing at seesaws and lavender fields as shorthands for shortcomings. She shades in the vagueness with sharp inhales, speechless stutters, and single syllables repeated like mantras. It is, as she sings on “All That I Wanted,” “illegible and whole,” her words more deeply felt as they shapeshift and disconnect from meaning.
ブルックリンを拠点のSSW
Tiny Hazard / Greyland (2017)
202403推し 準推し