| September 2007 |
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copyright the
owner. No
reproduction
without
consent.
MUSIC REVIEW
Rufus Wainwright's Release the Stars
reviewed by Marta Nelson
A few years back I was hosting a party in one of the many apartments I’ve called home. I had recently purchased
‘Poses’, the sophomore album from Rufus Wainwright, and gave it a spin to try and break from the crunchy
Brit/Canadian rock that seemed to be constantly ripping through the stereo. About halfway through, one of the guests
asked me if the rest of the songs were going to be as nasal and whiny as the first half of the album. I distinctly recall
my fury and concession to put on something else (I think it was Ani DiFranco, speaking of annoying...) and have
forever held a slight grudge against said philistine. To dislike Rufus Wainwright based on quality of his voice is akin
to hating a writer because of the font he uses. Who are we to argue with the vehicle for genius?
Following the sister albums ‘Want One’ and ‘Want Two’, Wainwright’s fifth album, Release the Stars samples many of
the same themes that pervade his other work. Songs of exaggerated love, lust, jealousy, ennui, and always self-
deprecation are carried effortlessly by his admittedly sometimes nasal baritone and a harem of backup singers,
including sister Martha. Even the occasional bizarre touch (a sample of the opening organ riff from The Phantom of
the Opera?) is forgiven; Wainwright still pulls off his over-the-top orchestrations.
While song subjects occasionally border on political (the first single, "Going to a Town" contains the refrain "I'm so
tired of you, America"), the common themes of love and Paris pervade, and do we really need anything else?
Interestingly, "Tulsa" is about a (platonic) evening spent with Brandon Flowers of The Killers, as explained by Rufus
while I was listening in concert in Edmonton last month. (n.b. If you get the chance to see him live, take it. The final
number is done in drag as Judy Garland with flawless choreography.)
Essentially, all you need to know is that each Wainwright album is an opera of lush, grandiose, melodramatic
arrangements, a tiny bit ridiculous and silly, but overwhelmingly wonderful and you end with the calm sense that while
you may not have understood it all, you’re somehow more complete for having listened.
Rufus Wainwright's Release the Stars
reviewed by Marta Nelson
A few years back I was hosting a party in one of the many apartments I’ve called home. I had recently purchased
‘Poses’, the sophomore album from Rufus Wainwright, and gave it a spin to try and break from the crunchy
Brit/Canadian rock that seemed to be constantly ripping through the stereo. About halfway through, one of the guests
asked me if the rest of the songs were going to be as nasal and whiny as the first half of the album. I distinctly recall
my fury and concession to put on something else (I think it was Ani DiFranco, speaking of annoying...) and have
forever held a slight grudge against said philistine. To dislike Rufus Wainwright based on quality of his voice is akin
to hating a writer because of the font he uses. Who are we to argue with the vehicle for genius?
Following the sister albums ‘Want One’ and ‘Want Two’, Wainwright’s fifth album, Release the Stars samples many of
the same themes that pervade his other work. Songs of exaggerated love, lust, jealousy, ennui, and always self-
deprecation are carried effortlessly by his admittedly sometimes nasal baritone and a harem of backup singers,
including sister Martha. Even the occasional bizarre touch (a sample of the opening organ riff from The Phantom of
the Opera?) is forgiven; Wainwright still pulls off his over-the-top orchestrations.
While song subjects occasionally border on political (the first single, "Going to a Town" contains the refrain "I'm so
tired of you, America"), the common themes of love and Paris pervade, and do we really need anything else?
Interestingly, "Tulsa" is about a (platonic) evening spent with Brandon Flowers of The Killers, as explained by Rufus
while I was listening in concert in Edmonton last month. (n.b. If you get the chance to see him live, take it. The final
number is done in drag as Judy Garland with flawless choreography.)
Essentially, all you need to know is that each Wainwright album is an opera of lush, grandiose, melodramatic
arrangements, a tiny bit ridiculous and silly, but overwhelmingly wonderful and you end with the calm sense that while
you may not have understood it all, you’re somehow more complete for having listened.
