"Pint of Blood" by Jolie Holland (2011)

Jolie Holland performing: timeless.

It seems nigh impossible at times to turn over on any one of those shelves something so honest that it is timeless, and so sincere that it evokes a deep, heaving sigh within the listener; the kind which lingers not simply for a moment but indefinitely, like an old wound rediscovered. Jolie Holland releases this new album with deep threads of resentment running through it, the title referring to a statement made along the lines of "you're not really friends with someone unless they lose a pint of blood for you". The album is not stark, though; it just glares outwardly with fierce, uncompromising dignity, and the opening piece "All Those Girls" sets the tone completely. This is an album about betrayal, antagonism, futile attempts at falling in love, and to quote directly:

"It brings a smile to my lips when I think of your fist narrowing in on and cracking his ribs; it brings a smile to my lips…"

"Remember" is wrought with a passionate plea for survival reminiscent of the harshness and winter-like emotion found in any novel by William Faulkner or John Steinbeck (she is very literate and renowned for her poetic songwriting). It is a quality of Holland's which is so sublime it often slips the listener by; she is a wonderful writer, and capable of reaching deep into the pit of despair and building texture and depth into such involving songwriting. With an impossibly rich style, it is never simple to describe the type of music that accompanies Holland's songwriting. It is often characterised by passionate and timeless blues but lately draws on rock and roll and most especially so in "Wreckage", which is a nice admixture of the two, and perhaps the most caustic song that appears on the album (it is not surprising that Tom Waits, a fellow musician, admires her for her style).

In this record Holland re-records "The Littlest Birds" which was originally recorded with the Be Good Tanyas, and perhaps stumbles as she approaches the final refrain, but renders into it at least a whole new emotional dimension; the former bright and flighty like a Spring morning, and the latter flecked with moonlight during winter, but still bearing that optimism, though shaded with layers and brought out with an entire new sound, which is incomparable in this musical climate. It is by every means a resplendent moment on the album and conveys the musical difference between Holland then and more recently. A comparison is recommended.

For someone who has followed this artist since very early on in her career, I am perhaps more biased in her favour than most of my contemporaries. However, following the last album "The Living and the Dead" this is no minor accomplishment; Holland's style is beyond this time; it draws from past literary references, musicians who have ebbed with the flow of time, and it also carries Holland's new rendition which weaves the whole together wonderfully. 

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