Titanic Rising

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Titanic Rising, written and recorded during the first half of 2018, is the culmination of three albums and years of touring: stronger chops and ballsier decisions. It’s an achievement in transcendent vocals and levitating arrangements—one she could reach only by flying under the radar for so many years. “I used to want to belong,” says the L.A. based musician. “I realized I had to forge my own path. Nobody was going to do that for me. That was liberating. I became a Joan of Arc solo musician.” I said at the beginning this one's a hard one to review because basically every single release from the start has complaints. Even the average rating is pretty much the same (around 4.5-4.6). Near the end of the most fruitful decade for female-dominated art pop, Natalie Mering’s fourth album Titanic Rising is her most complex and sophisticated project to date and one of the most captivating albums of 2019.

The phantom zone, the parallax, the upside down—there is a rich cultural history of exploring in-between places. Through her latest, Titanic Rising, Weyes Blood (a.k.a. Natalie Mering) has, too, designed her own universe to soulfully navigate life’s mysteries. Maneuvering through a space-time continuum, she intriguingly plays the role of melodic, sometimes melancholic, anthropologist. Sonically, I don't agree with it sounding muffled, compressed, low detailed. It sounds really good on my system, honestly. Selected items are only available for delivery via the Royal Mail 48® service and other items are available for delivery using this service for a charge. I sometimes find it very difficult to describe or review albums that are just very beautiful to listen to, simply because this is the kind of music you let wash over you, something that creates a melancholic yet blissful atmosphere. For this reason I'm also not particularly looking forward to reviewing two more of Natalie Mering's albums. Rough Trade Albums of the Year 2019 No. 2 See also Album of the Year Exclusive Rough Trade SessionEPTellingly, Mering classifies Titanic Rising as the Kinks meet WWII or Bob Seger meets Enya. The latter captures the album’s willful expansiveness (“You can tell there’s not a guy pulling the strings in Enya’s studio,” she notes, admiringly). The former relays her imperative to connect with listeners. “The clarity of Bob Seger is unmistakable. I’m a big fan of conversational songwriting,” she adds. “I just try to do that in a way that uses abstract imagery as well.” One of our favourite artists over the last few years has been Natalie Mering aka Weyes Blood - her previous albums on Mexican Summer were sublime, but her album on Sub Pop has taken her to another level. The phantom zone, the parallax, the upside down—there is a rich cultural history of exploring in-between places. With Titanic Rising she has designed her own universe to soulfully navigate life’s mysteries. Titanic Rising approaches these modern-day problems through a distinctly sentimental lens. Mering has referred to herself as a “nostalgic futurist,” and here she leans into that title by examining the strange ways technology has shaped modern romance through the earnest lyrics and golden, gigantic arrangements of 1970s pop songwriters. But unlike Joni Mitchell or the Carpenters, whose love affairs were clouded by plain old anxiety and desperation, Mering’s love affairs are clouded by algorithms. As she seeks true love on the jaunty “Everyday,” Mering’s desire for companionship bursts forth like a geyser. When she bellows “I need a love every day” over a baroque clavinet, it’s with a herculean determination.

Titanic Rising is definitely bit of a change in sound for Weyes Blood, the arrangements are even lusher and the entire sound has an influence of late 60s/early 70s baroque pop, with some moments where the harmonies remind me of Beach Boys and the vocals sound very similar to Karen Carpenter. But Weyes Blood still makes this very much her own album, especially in the 2010s, I can't think of an album that combines these elements quite like she does here, and the result is very dreamy and absolutely gorgeous. This album shows when things are done with heart I guess one of the greatest gratifications of music is getting to discover new worlds through feelings, new ways to connect with them, and this album is another way to connect with sadness and existentialism, a really romanticized way to feel it, but it's sadness at the end. Throughout Titanic Rising, Natalie Mering faces an uncertain future with confidence and grace, but she also showcases her raw emotions and her genuine desire to break free from what is real and escape into reality, whether it’s space or the theatre, or maybe both (space operas are certainly nothing new). As she maneuvers her way through her own galaxy of Andromeda, she explores her past memories of heartbreak and loss and confronts her existing problems, leaving an aquatic and surreal work of art that brings a new sense of innovation and beauty to the world. Manoeuvering through a space-time continuum, she plays the role of melodic, sometimes melancholic, anthropologist. Tellingly, Mering classifies Titanic Rising – which was written and recorded during the first half of 2018, after three albums and years of touring - as the Kinks meet WWII or Bob Seger meets Enya. The latter captures the album’s willful expansiveness (“You can tell there’s not a guy pulling the strings in Enya’s studio,” she notes, admiringly). The former relays her imperative to connect with listeners. “The clarity of Bob Seger is unmistakable. I’m a big fan of conversational songwriting,” she adds. “I just try to do that in a way that uses abstract imagery as well.”Even at her most optimistic, Mering grounds herself in reality. On the majestic opener “A Lot’s Gonna Change,” Mering yearns to return to the purity of childhood, a time when the world seemed to swell with wonder and possibility. But she cuts her fantasy short and admits that since progress is impossible to escape, why not focus on what matters right now? Later on “Mirror Forever,” she is her most blunt: “No one’s ever gonna give you a trophy/For all the pain and things you’ve been through/No one knows but you.” This advice comes off as almost gravely urgent and upholds Titanic Rising’s acceptance of difficult truths. Movies" is my favorite song of the album, the sunken synch that rises slowly, elevating the mystical voice of Natalie who sings about taking control of her own life. This songs reaches a majestic moment with her angelical voices surrounding the whole song. It's a masterpiece. Today’s CD is “Titanic Rising” by Weyes Blood. Weyes Blood is Natalie Mering and “Titanic Rising” is either her 4th or 6th album depending upon whether you are reading “Rate Your Music” or Wikipedia. I first saw her playing support to Father John Misty in 2017 and I have seen her headlining. I am supposed to be going to see her again on 10th June which is seeming more and more unlikely but I live in hope. The biggest achievement of this album is it's whole escenary, from the artwork to the music, all feels very homogeneous, is a gate to the heart and mind of a mysterious woman who has suffer as all humans the downs that come with life.

But Weyes Blood isn’t one to stew. Her observations play out in an ethereal saunter: far more meditative than cynical. “I experience reality on a slower, more hypnotic level,” she says. “I’m a more contemplative kind of writer.” To Mering, listening and thinking are concurrent experiences. “There are complicated influences mixed in with more relatable nostalgic melodies,” she says. “In my mind my music feels so big, a true production. I’m not a huge, popular artist, but I feel like one when I’m in the studio. But it’s never taking away from the music. I’m just making a bigger space for myself.” The truth that lies beneath Titanic Rising is that love blossoms and love wilts. This law of nature is mirrored in the emotional arc introduced by “A Lot’s Gonna Change.” “Everyone’s broken now/And no one knows just how,” she murmurs on the monumental “Wild Time.” The songs are more stoic and elegant even when Mering sings of apocalyptic imagery like a “million people burnin’.”