I Just Read About That…

SOUNDTRACK: OVERCOATS-Young (2017).

Overcoats is the project of two women: Hana Elion (left on the album cover) and JJ Mitchell.  The focus of their music is, without question, their dynamic voices.  They harmonize beautifully with each other.  Often times you can’t tell who is singing what.  And yet, they also have lovely voices individually.

The music on this record is very minimal.  Some songs are based solely around a low keyboard note and simple percussion.

What’s most interesting about the duo is that their music veers between quiet, introspective songs and some serious dance music.  Their sound is at times uncomfortably poppy for me.  And yet after seeing them on a Tiny Desk Concert I have embraced them and let my pop hair down.

The disc opens with the short (less than 2 minute) “Father” which features one vocal and a low drone underneath.  For the second verse, their voices are multiplied and echoed.  It’s beautiful and a little unsettling.

But it’s “Smaller Than My Mother” in which the more dancey aspects first show up.  Over a thumping bass, their voices are manipulated in a strange way to create a staccato melody.  Musically the song is again, a little unsettling, but after a verse or two, some full-on synths come in to take over the manipulated voices as the prime melody and the two main vocals power through in close, delightful harmony.  The song isn’t exactly catchy, but it is quite entrancing.

“23” begins quietly, with just one vocal line.  For the second verse, the harmonies kick in and the song soars. But again, the music behind them is pretty minimal–droney synths a simple beat and sprinkling of keyboard notes.

“Leave the Light On” takes what they’ve done to a new level of complexity.  It showcases not only their voices (close and distant harmonies) but also their danciest sensibilities.  Their voices are looped and modulated, but they also sing quite rhythmically.  The song also has more music than the others, with some loud synthy patterns and a real dance feel.

“Hold Me Close” is a powerful pretty ballad.  The melody is followed on a piano with these buzzy electronic sounds that propel the song forward.  But the music mostly drifts away because it’s all about their voices.

The back half of the album is a lot more mellow.  “The Fog” manipulates their voices more as a woozy, foggy synth plays throughout the song while “Walk On” is just a pretty, understated song.  “Little Memory” is all about their harmonies as is “Siren” although with a bit more oomph.

“Nighttime Memory” seems like it will continue in that quieter vein, but the chorus comes in with a kind of sinister droning keyboard and the two singers singing a tight harmony of “When the darkness comes, wheh wheh when…”

“Mother” bookends the disc.  The way the two hum in harmony is really warm and inviting, a comforting end to this sometimes unsettling but always beautiful disc.

[READ: March, 21, 2016] “The Elephant”

At the time, I had been reading a number of stories set in the Middle East and India that seemed to be full of futility.  It is quite dispiriting,

This story begins at Mr Ganesh Pai’s store.  Mrs. Engineer had come in person to shop there.  She bought an expensive TV table and said she would pay the balance of the item once it was delivered safely.  Mr Pai notes, “she’s a stingy old cunt.”  This makes his assistant laugh, but there is no laughing in this store.  Rather, he must tell Chenayya that it is his delivery to make.

Chenayya is a coolie–a delivery boy–for this mega store.  The store is doing well, there are many deliveries a day.  But the deliverers get paid poorly and have to give a portion of their to Pai.  Chenayya begins his delivery on the bicycle. Up the big hill.   He works hard, even making sure the table doesn’t wobble (he carried a big saw with him) but she gives him only 3 rupees as a tip.  He begs for six but she tells him to get away.

Many of the other delivery men spend their money on alcohol, but not Chenayya.  He knows the cost isn’t worth t.  He does buy a lottery ticket, though.   He often thinks about stealing the money on a delivery and taking off–maybe someday.

As with the vulgarity above, I was really surprised by the language.  I don’t know if this area speaks English (I doubt it) so I assume the cursing is in what ever dialect the speak here.  Seeing the liberal use of “motherfucker” was surprising to me.

On another delivery up the hill, he sees the titular Elephant.  The elephant is also making a delivery.  And Chenayya is super pissed about it–“take this load from me, its more fitted to your size, you motherfucker.”

Chenayya and the others sleep in their carts in the alley.  There’s a prostitute who jingles change to get the men to come.  She won’t give Chenayya anything for free though– he feels a strange bond to her nonetheless.

The only things that change in their lives are when an English language journalist comes and talks to them.  He reveals how they don’t eat enough for all the exertion they do–their job is killing them. This makes Chenayya furious–how dare he make fun of the job that Chenayya himself was making fun of earlier. But the man’s suggestion, that they work in a factory instead, sticks with Chenayya and the next day he goes to the big factory in town to ask for a job.  They don’t let him in until a man came out surrounded by flunkies.

Chenayya prostrated himself in front of the man, begging for a job–any work for any pay.  The big man stopped and said to his men, “this is the attitude we should have.”  The man told him to come back tomorrow for a day by day job.

Chenayya is so excited he runs back and tells the others to go to hell.  But when he returns to the factory, he is rudely kicked and told to get out.

The rest of the story involves Chenayya dreaming of success, only to be rudely awakened by the prostitute next to him.  There’s the further indignity where Chenayya actually gets something and then squanders it immediately.

The sight of the Elephant again nearly makes him snap.  And the story goes in an even darker direction.