I spent lots of time with musicians of all shapes and stripes during my first two years of college. Had I finished my degree at the university where I started, I would have graduated with well over 20 hours of music-related credits, thanks to taking music theory classes and playing in different groups. That prolonged exposure to the theoretical and academic viewpoints of music would have changed how I approached being a fan, critic, and creator. Sure, no one perspective is better than another in a vacuum, but context does matter. Thus, those years of semi-formal training in classical, jazz, and composition would have had an outsized role in my attitudes.
Even in that alternate timeline, the music of Catherine Brookman would have bowled me over.
This talented woman has created an utterly ambitious yet remarkably grounded debut album. Entitled If a Song Fades Out, It’s Playing Forever Somewhere, she delivers warm, melancholy art-rock that’s infused with heaps of ambient, jazz, and post-classical influences. Released on Long Echo Records, this ten-song record combines folk underpinnings, an electro-pop nervous system, and New Age musculature to grand effect. I hear rich swathes of Enya, Beth Gibbons, Cate Le Bon, and Sinead O’Connor singing together while James Blake devises minimalist soundscapes underneath.
Catherine Brookman cultivates a glorious sonic palette.
A magnificent contralto who’s performed with operas and orchestras across the U.S., she assembled a flotilla of remarkable musicians to bring her ideas to life. We’re talking thick trip-hop beats with floor-rattling sub bass. Airy synths develop ample texture, especially when it comes to skronking electronic effect that swirl throughout the mix. But the most important element is how she ensures that each composition has enough space so the various elements can ebb, flow, and dance to become a unified whole.
Lyrically, the songs overflow with pastoral details while still abounding in metaphors and impressionistic whimsy. “Montreal” contains this playfully innocent vignette: “From the mirror to the river / From the mountains to the shower / So now we drink ‘til we fall asleep / And in the morning we water our flowers.” On “Mourning Dove, she intones, “Sun goes down in your window / Followed the sun over here / But the sun goes down and when it does, you disappear.”
The penultimate “O Mountain” contains the query, “O Sky / You’ve got no alibi / Why’d you turn to night when we needed your light? / We need your light.” Closing the album, “I Woke Up In the Sky” is a seven-minute ode to a perilous skydiving trip: “O God, O God, O God / The sky is huge / Flashing sun on the sea / The earth gleaming at me / The earth gleaming at me.”
This album is wholly captivating – but like a reverse siren.
Instead of beckoning wayward sailors to crash their boat onto tragic shoals, Catherine Brookman encourages people to stay around the fire. She wants people to remain together enjoying the safety and warmth of friendship. It’s not that she wants us to avoid the unknown, but more that it’s better to face the unfamiliar together. If A Song Fades Out, It’s Playing Forever Somewhere balances contemporary classical music and left-field electro-goth with confidence. By pairing her compelling voice with layers of harmonies and pitch-bent vocal takes, she provides an intricate musical experience that will only get better across multiple listens. I’m simply glad I get to enjoy her music no matter what timeline I’m living in.