“The Way I Feel Inside” Review
Dominic Valvona’s Eclectic Reviews Spot
It’s a name synonymous with whimsy poignancy, a signature frame and colour palette, but what the American filmmaker Wes Anderson and his perfectly constructed diorama movies are equally famous for is their carefully curated soundtracks. The scores of which have led to, in some cases, a revival of fortune for the said artists and bands that pepper such iconic films as Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums, The Life Aquatic, Fantastic Mr. Fox, Moonrise Kingdomand so on.
The unassuming Anderson has become such a cult figure himself that, in kind, a number of artists have penned homages or name checked his films or idiosyncratic view of the world. Arguably there is a certain hip, generation X selective and knowing calculation to those mixtape-like soundtracks that get used as prompts for poignancy, emotional states and the almost impossible to quantify with just actions or dialogue.
Not quite the homage in itself, the debut album from the NYC bassist and composer Marty Isenberg (stepping out under his own name for the first time) entwines the feelings of his own formative years with Anderson’s filmography: or rather, the music from those beautifully crafted stories of outsider isolation and pain. You could call it a covers album of a sort; an eight-song selection of reinterpretations would be better though. And yet, despite keeping some of the signature melodies, all of the original lyrics, Isenberg extends, menders and sets familiar emoted pulls in a different environment with a rich jazz transformation.
You’ll have to excuse my ignorance and a lack of info on who is joining Isenberg on this album: there’s electric guitar, drums, some sax and cornet, and a beautifully voiced singer with shades of Norah Jones and Esperanza Spalding. I’m going to suggest that members of Isenberg’s Like Minds Trio with Alicyn Yaffee and Eric Reeves could be involved. It would make perfect sense; the music does at least sound congruous.
Proving the most popular choices, The Royal Tenenbaums and The Life Aquatic dominant. From the former there’s a faithful harpsichord spindled version of the Velvet Underground’s ‘Stephanie Says’ that subtly transforms that Stones-like psychedelic old England vibe into a smooth 70s jazz light theme tune, with sections of swing and simmered feels. Velvet third wheel and oft collaborative partner, Nico has her pleasant of Lutheran melancholic song of regret and remembrance. ‘These Days’, lightened and taken back to Jackson Browne’s more lifted, sweetened origins. A Muscle Shoals electric piano (or Hammond) hovers as the vocals acquire more of a lilting and near scat-jazzy vocal arrangement that sounds almost Bacharach(ian).
Another Tenenbaums favourite, Eliot Smith’s ‘Needle In The Hay’ is given a jazzy touch. Isenberg opens with incipient bass bends, scales and nimble introspective picks as a less adolescent moody, despondent vocal points towards both Spalding and Tori Amos. The feels all there: the indie singer-songwriter dourness. Yet it’s given an off-script treatment of drama counterbalanced by the meandered.
Nick Drake’s achingly beautiful ‘Cello Song’, with all its connotations and personal tragedy, is a journey in itself of the wept and sympathetic. Sailing close to Beggars Banquet Stones, and the jazz of Mingus and Bobby Jackson at other times, a “cruel world” of sensitivity is softly expanded upon. That vocal is almost airy, if still carrying a beguiled plaintive tone…. CLICK HERE TO READ MORE
