Lung Bread for Daddy

構成数 : 1枚
合計収録時間 : 00:38:20
Personnel: Beth Jeans Houghton (vocals, guitar, piano, organ, Mellotron, synthesizer, percussion, background vocals). Audio Mixers: Chris Hamilton ; Mike Lindsay. Whether working as Du Blonde or under her given name, Beth Jeans Houghton pours all of herself into her music, and never more so than on Lung Bread for Daddy. On Du Blonde's second album, Houghton takes full creative control -- from songwriting to production to the self-portrait that graces the cover -- on a set of songs about losing control and getting it back. Written and recorded after she sought help for her lifelong anxiety and depression in early 2018, Lung Bread for Daddy finds her crawling back from the bottom, leaving behind old lovers, old worries, and old identities (Houghton is non-binary). Her hard-earned victories are reflected in the album's world-weary yet liberated vibe and, especially, in the roughness of her voice. She peels paint from the walls with the scream that punctuates "Coffee Machine"; rasps out confessions like "All my eggs are dying/In my twenties, I'm antique" on "Holiday Resort"; and crows about the end of a bad relationship on "Angel," where her elation is echoed by a heroic guitar solo. Moments like these wouldn't have been possible without Welcome to Back to Milk, which began the shift from the ethereal folk-psych-pop of Beth Jeans Houghton & the Hooves of Destiny to the grittier world of Du Blonde. While "Baby Talk"'s bluesy wallop echoes the Milk highlight "Black Flag," on Daddy, Houghton discovers more organic ways of integrating the theatricality of her older work with the bluntness of her newer persona. She evokes Hole's and Liz Phair's defiance and anthemically grungy chords on "Take Out Chicken," then makes them weird on "Peach Meat," adding lurid synth strings and samples that magnify the unease when she intones, "you're very kind and you're very bad." Later, "RBY," a soundtrack-worthy power ballad from beyond the grave, exploits the syrupy melodies of early-'70s AM pop and glam rock's majestic guitars for all they're worth. Here and throughout the album, Houghton's songwriting is more vivid than ever. On her previous albums, her way with words frequently took second or third place to her powerhouse vocals and musicianship, but on Lung Bread for Daddy, it's a vital part of the album's power. Her kiss-off to an ex on "Acetone" is equally clever and cathartic ("Though you tried to make a mark/You only loved me in the dark/I'll wash it off in a bath of blood and acetone"); on "On the Radio," she finds poetry in a doomed relationship ("I don't seem to suit you/But you still want to try me on and see"). Calling this Houghton's most consistent album undersells it -- the way every part of Lung Bread for Daddy comes together to create a ragged but ultimately uplifting self-portrait of Du Blonde makes for thrilling listening. ~ Heather Phares