Audio By Carbonatix
The British quartet Mojave 3’s new album, Spoon and Rafter, is so beautifully sad that one wonders why their outlook is so relentlessly downcast. The occasionally jaunty folk-pop and country arrangements of 2001’s Excuses for Travellers have been smoothed out into airy, melancholy backdrops; the four musicians’ playing has slowed down to a series of ballads, each seemingly more despondent than the last.
Many of the titles are self-explanatory: “Tinker’s Blues,” “Too Many Mornings,” “Battle of the Broken Hearts.” Neil Halstead is an excellent vocalist who interprets his lyrics with supple grace. He seems to linger over each one, drawing out its vowels until they reverberate, and the added presence of backing vocalist and bassist Rachel Goswell makes them appear three-dimensional, the duo’s whispers echoing together into the music.
Spoon and Rafter doesn’t tread into Smiths territory, making it difficult to accuse Mojave 3 of self-indulgence or navel-gazing. The group doesn’t sound obsessed, just tired. On “Writing to St. Peter,” Halstead sings of a lonely woman worn out by the “black and white” walls of her house, and “Between the Bars” finds him weary of a girl who he sees “with a boy/Between the bars/You were always pretty good at getting high/For someone so small.” The strength of his songwriting allows one to sympathize with him, and on a difficult, enervating day he can be something of a kindred soul. But it’s hard not to get lost in his constant, painfully realized sorrow, where the only escape is to turn the music off.
