Antony and the Johnsons - Swanlights

If Antony and the Johnsons’ third album, 2009’s The Crying Light, didn’t have quite the seismic impact of its predecessor I Am A Bird Now, it nevertheless fulfilled an important role; as well as securing Antony Hegarty’s position as an artist committed to his own vision, it also demonstrated that he clearly wasn’t going to suffer at the hands of industry moguls looking to spruce up his sound for mainstream appetites. 
 
But whereas The Crying Light was a work of spare, monochrome beauty, Swanlights adds splashes of colour and texture to the mix. The swirling strings on ‘Salt Silver Oxygen’ and ‘I’m In Love’ are reminiscent of Owen Pallett (surely the only other artist operating in this rarefied space right now) and his masterful Heartland LP from earlier this year. Backwards tapes and the insistent buzz of an electric guitar underpin the title track here – combining with Hegarty’s overlapping vocals, they create an atmosphere of exceptional eeriness that reminded this listener a little of Radiohead’s ‘Pyramid Song’. At the other end of the emotional spectrum, ‘Thank You For Your Love’ is as light as air; blasted along by chirpy brass, it’s this record’s most immediate and euphoric moment, its ‘Kiss My Name’ or ‘Fistful of Love’.
 
It’s no over-egged pudding, though, and Antony proves once again here his mastery of the most intimate of recordings: a barely strummed acoustic guitar accompanies the sumptuous ‘The Great White Ocean’ – a song exploring lyrical terrain that will be familiar to fans, as Hegarty imagines dying before the rest of his family. Elsewhere, ‘The Spirit Was Gone’ finds Antony in his most familiar setting: at the piano, flanked by hushed strings – it is exquisitely sad. There’s barely a false step throughout; perhaps only ‘Fletta’, a duet with Björk, (surprisingly) lets the side down. The collaboration should be a recipe for success, and in fairness the song does eventually get going, but not until after you’ve waited an age for it to do so.
 
Although the opening track here is entitled ‘Everything Is New’, that may not be strictly true: that singular voice, and much of the instrumentation and lyrical themes will be familiar to converts. But listening to Swanlights reminds me of a scene from the Coen Brothers’ ‘A Serious Man’ in which the junior rabbi tries to get the titularly sober Larry to look at the world anew, and try to find beauty in the parking lot outside his office. What’s so impressive is that, three albums into what now constitutes a gold run of form, Hegarty sounds not in the least jaded by success – still more than capable of looking at the world anew, he radiates a sense of youthful wonder.