What Caroline Polacheck has
over her contemporaries, the likes
of Taylor and Chappelle and Charlie,
you know, these powerhouse singers
blending the pop and the dance and
the electronics, is that Caroline
is musically far more strange, far more
otherworldly, far more arty, I’d say.
I mean, from the first notes: listen to
that howl that begins the opening track–
welcome to my island, indeed. Narrated
by a character who sounds an awful lot
like Calypso from The Odyssey, this
tune carries the line that gives this
album its title: “Desire, I want to
turn into you.” Every tune, either
in lyric, its funky electronic production,
or the way in which Caroline’s versatile
but buttery voice hits you right between
the eyes almost every time, displays
some sort of oddity or strangeness.
What’s this in “Sunset”? A flamenco?
I think so. One of these things is not
like the other, but for me, that’s one
of the things that makes Polacheck
exciting to listen to. You can’t really
guess where she will turn in the next
tune. And these melodies are to die for.
That chorus in “I Believe” is one of those
melodic turns that feels classic the first
time you hear it. And all of the ballads
on the second side feel this way as well.
It’s masterful writing and recording all
the way through, and I find, that even
though this kind of pop diva purity is
not completely in my wheelhouse, I could
listen to this record, as I did, over
and over and not once feel even a little
bit dirty.
Notes on the vinyl edition: Desire, I Want To Turn Into You, Perpetual Novice Records, 2023, mustard and black marble vinyl.
In case you don’t already know: I’m listening to almost everything in my vinyl collection, A to Z, and writing at least one, sometimes two or three long skinny poem-like-things in response for each artist, and on a few occasions, writing a long skinny poem-like-thing in response to more than one artist. As a poet and a student of poetry, I understand that these things look like poems, but they don’t really sound much like poetry, hence, I call them “poem-like-things.” I’ll admit that they’re just long, skinny essays that veer every now and then into the poetic or lyric.
