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M. Ward
Transfiguration of Vincent
Merge Records MRG 223 (USA)
Matador Records OLE 5782 (Europe)
By Marianne Ebertowski
 M. Ward is a
quiet sort of guy. On stage, you hardly notice his presence.
Hiding behind a blue baseball cap and an acoustic guitar, his
gauky figure hunches over the microphone as he seemingly sings
to himself rather than to an audience. But once he sits down
to play his guitar, he grabs your attention in a big way; his
effortless way of finding and combining the most incredible chords
is simply stunning. The beauty of Ward's tunes is more than
skindeep. It makes you open up to the vulnerability of his voice
and his lyrics. There is an innocence about his performance
which somehow seems to be reserved for the very young. It is
this innocence and vulnerability which is captured brilliantly
on Matt Ward's third release Transfiguration of Vincent
(produced by Marc Coykendall who also adds bass and percussion).
This is an album about loss. What sort of loss is not made
explicit in Matt's liner notes. "This record was designed
to keep the loss alive and behind me," he explains. Loss
of a loved one. So much is clear. Maybe (the fear about) loss
of innocence and loss of youth. M. Ward makes albums as Gus
van Sant makes films: personal, beautiful and gentle even in
the cruel moments. Strangely enough, both artists are based
in Portland, Oregon. Coincidence? Very likely so. Did they
ever meet? Probably not. Then again, maybe there is something
about Portland. I've never been there, I probably never will
be, but I can listen to Ward's music and watch van Sant's films
and experience the same thing: a profound humanity, an almost
naive adolescent wrestling with innocence and guilt. In the
instrumental opening number "Transfiguration #1," Ward
creates a peaceful sunset mood with guitar, harmonica and a toy
piano-like keyboard.
Being Dutch, I had expected the album's main character, Vincent,
to be Vincent van Gogh, but it turns out to be a person called
Vincent O'Brien. Like his famous Dutch name namesake, Ward's
Vincent is a sad man whose time is running out. Ward hopes he
can get himself together before he cuts his ear off. The song
features painful loud electric guitar to press its point. After
that, Ward seeks advise about what to do when your true love
leaves, finds it and turns it into a "Sad, Sad Song."
The situation gets even drearier in "Undertaker,"
where Ward is obsessed with a strangely peaceful deathwish, calling
on the undertaker to put him in a box and "take him home."
Moody keyboard and guitar splash over his voice like waves.
"Duet for Guitars no. 3" is a delight for everybody
who is partial to crafty guitar picking. It is followed by "Outta
My Head" which , starting with heavily distorted electric
guitar, turns into a very sweet account of sexual ecstacy. "Involuntary"
is an eerily beautiful description of loneliness and the sort
of paralysis which comes with it, all wrapped in melancholy guitar
sounds to die for. In "Helicopter," a twangy song,
Matt wants to save his baby "from the mess this world has
made."
From twang M. Ward crosses over to a jazzy field in "Poor
Boy, Minor Key." Here he gets some help from Giant Sand's
Howe Gelbe (who helped Ward with his second release Duet For
Guitars no2) on piano, Adam Selzer on mandolin and Kate Simcr
on vocals. "Poor Boy" is something of a highlight,
but that doesn't mean that the album slacks after that. There
is "Fool Says" with distorted surf guitar, the old-timey
"Get To The Table On Time", a piano tune with percussion
by Mike Coykendall. Then there's a strong finale starting with
"A Voice At The End Of The Line" where Ward comforts
a dead man by telling him not to cry, because he shall be saved
by and by. As corny as this may sound, M. Ward gets away with
it as if he's cradling a scared baby. The biggest surprise for
me was Matt's laid back, almost exhausted sounding interpretation
of David Bowie's disco hit "Let's Dance" fading out
with harmonica and toy piano. The album ends with "Transfiguration
# 2" which, introduced by helicopter noise and followed
by a few economic piano chords, abruptly leaves you behind in
bewildered silence.
M. Ward is young, sensitive and incredibly gifted. That won't
earn him celebrity status On the contrary, most people will
never recognize him in the streets, like they often even don't
after a show. Most people don't recognize Gus van Sant either.
Transfiguration of Vincent, like My Own Private Idaho
or Elephant shows a vulnerability rarely expressed by
a male artist. It's an album that makes a difference if you
allow it to happen.
www.mergerecords.com
www.matadorrecords.com
Contact Marianne Ebertowski at ebertowski-at-rockzilla.net
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