Nico Muhly

August 14, 2009

You have probably heard Nico Muhly by now, even if you haven’t listened to him. The 20-something composer has had a hell of a run considering his age, with pieces being premiered by the American Symphony Orchestra, the Juilliard Orchestra, and the Boston Pops, and that’s in addition to his film scores and extensive work with Phillip Glass. Oh yeah, he also played a decent-sized roll on Bjork’s last few records, too. But the reason you might be more familiar with Muhly than you know is that he has had his fingerprints all over some of the year’s best records. Those great parts with the Brooklyn Youth Choir on Grizzly Bear’s Veckatimest? Muhly. The string arrangements on Antony and the Johnson’s The Crying Light? Muhly. His name also pops up a few times in the credits for the fantastic Dark Was the Night compilation, and he’s contributing to the reworking of Sufjan Steven’s Enjoy Your Rabbit. Like I said, you’ve probably heard Nico Muhly, even if you haven’t listened to him.

While Muhly has certainly been busy contributing to other people’s projects, he has also released two great solo records in the past few years. Muhly’s solo records are much more in line with what you would imagine someone with his credentials would create, what with their highfalutin classical concepts. I’m not going to even pretend I understand a lot of what is going on in his music. I’m not a musician or a composer, and I only took one semester of music history in college, so I’m woefully unequipped to analyze the goings-on of classical music. The liner notes of Muhly’s first album, Speaks Volumes, make an attempt to shed some light on the processes behind the recordings, but a good portion of the explanation was lost on me. What I do know is that his music sounds fantastic, at least to these ears.

Speaks Volumes seems to be a little all over the place, but by the end of the third song you get a grip on what’s going on. The songs are interested in what they’re not doing just as much as what they are doing. “Keep in Touch” is the best example of this, with Antony lending his vocals to the piece. But where most people would be glad to get such an amazing voice as Antony’s on a song, Muhly instead focuses on the in-between parts of his voice, those odd little hiccups that come at the end of phrases. The result is a weird tango between the voice and the viola that builds until all of those little bits come spilling over the sides.

Muhly’s second album, Mothertongue, acts as kind of an extension of “Keep in Touch.” The whole album is centered around the human voice and the way it interacts with itself and other instruments. The pieces here usually find the vocals layered, and then layered, and then layered again until you’re not totally sure what is going on. Part one of “Mothertongue” is the best example of this, with Abigail Fisher quickly spouting off addresses while her ghosts do the same all around her. It sounds kind of ridiculous, and it is, but it’s also pretty great. It’s hard to get what he’s going for in an excerpt, because three pieces that make up the album really need to be heard in their entirety. The best bit here is “The Only Tune,” which features Sam Amidon singing and manipulating a traditional folksong. He chews on the phrases until you totally reevaluate how the words sound, kind of like when all of a sudden the word “spatula” sounds really weird and you can’t stop repeating it. The result is a perfect example of what Muhly’s music is all about: he strikes a balance between high concepts and emotional accessibility. His music would just be slightly interesting if it didn’t resonate on some gut level.

Spatula. Spatula. What a weird word.

MP3 Nico Muhly – Keep in Touch
MP3 Nico Muhly – Mothertongue, Pt. 1: Archive

Posted by Matt in Artist Spotlight