Nicole Atkins
New York City, New York, United States | MAJOR
Music
Press
Friday, 25 March 2005
Punk rock psychedelic orchestral country girl Nicole Atkins follows up her breakout EP with a full length. It's, uhm... longer, and has more songs, and according to Matt Broad, is absolutely fucking great. From sixties-girl-group "sha-la-la"s to pshychomelodrama minor key epics, "The Party's Over" is on our list...
Nicole Atkins
“Party’s Over”
By Matt Broad
Many of us first fell under Nicole Atkins’ spell when she was the self-proclaimed “punk rock country girl,” singing tales of heartbreak and defiance over plaintive slide-guitars and revved up Americana rhythms. Though that sound worked pretty damn well for her, Nicole has certainly found a new home for herself in the psychedelic-orchestral-pop mode of “Party’s Over,” her new LP. Throughout this excellent album, Atkins’ songwriting comes into its own as her deep, emotive voice rises far above jangling minor-key tunes and shimmering sound-scapes of heartbreaking beauty.
Atkins’ music inhabits a world where poodle skirts and Pabst Blue Ribbon go hand in hand; where Woodstock is not only a music festival but also a little stuffed animal you sleep with in a canopy bed; where women know that blue eye-shadow is the only option and merry-go-rounds run on a twenty-four hour seven-day-a-week schedule. In other words, it’s a world that many of us in the arts try to inhabit: where one finds comfort and inspiration from the idealized pop days of yore while still trying to etch out a comfortable place in one’s own time.
And boy does this album start off with a classic.
If anyone wants to know what it would sound like if Nicole Atkins and the Shirelles sang a tune co-written by Radiohead and the Brill Building writers in late 1966, you might want to give a good listen to the opening track, “Skywriters.” Beginning as a tuneful and melancholic break-up kind of song, the “Street Spirit”-cum-Samba music of the verse intermingles with a ’60s girl-band “sha-la-la-la”. But just when we’re getting comfortable in that mode the music all but cuts out, leaving the listener on edge until the “doo-doo-doo-doo” girl choir ushers in a chorus of such ecstatic glee that you’re convinced you might be listening to the greatest single of the year. The chorus of “Skywriters” is one of those rare, much sought after sounds: the quintessential pop-song moment. And if the album suffers at all, it’s because the bar has been set almost impossibly high by the opening song.
Which is not to say that the rest is filler, because it isn’t. “Delora” and “Carouselle” seem to be sonic companion pieces, Hollies-esque psychedelic songs in which Nicole conjures up the inherent strangeness and wonder of childhood, growth, love, and heartbreak as if she were Glenda the Good Witch hovering above a carnival in pre-Altamont San Francisco. The title track, “Party’s Over,” finds beauty in the preemptive break-up, with Nicole’s voice sounding almost unbelievably sexy as she strains to hit the high notes. All of the songs tend to stray to the minor-key side, and one occasionally wants a major chord moment to provide a change of pace as was so brilliantly executed in “Skywriters,” but hey, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it. Anyway, her voice is so beautiful and the production (courtesy of David Muller) so lovely that it doesn’t seem to matter.
The other great standout, which bookends “Skywriters” as the last track of the album, is “Neptune City.” The music is exquisite, sounding almost like the lost theme song to Edward Scissorhands, and the lyrics are Atkins’ best. It is a “cemetery song” for her hometown and youth, but it is not a eulogy meant to evoke despair. Rather, Nicole remembers childhood through a sentimental and artfully pragmatic mirror. Above a twinking casio-tone and ethereal ooh-ahhs, Atkins nearly hypnotizes herself and us with thoughts of the pretty and innocent days. But you can’t marry nostalgia, not if you want to grow, and so she assures us that she is only visiting this nether-world: “I’ll come down, walk around awhile, till I’m sure I can never go home again.” Atkins survives the encounter with her immortal sheen of youth (as the Bard would say) and the album ends almost as it began: with shimmering, twinkling bells.
And, after that all sinks in, after the silence, you go back and listen to “Skywriters” again.
- The Village Broadsheet
Imagine a very bleak and somewhat disturbed Doris Day if she were channeling Brian Wilson circa “Pet Sounds”. Now you’ve got an inkling of what Nicole Atkins sounds like. On her new album, “Party’s Over”, Nicole Atkins conjures up images of the aquamarine 60s, replete with pastel colored cookie cutter houses, blue skies, white picket fences and kids at play. On the surface the songs are happy and would sound almost kitschy if they didn’t lyrically pack a punch. However, scratch just below the surface and you’ll find songs about suicide, lost love and impending death. What immediately leaps out at you is the depth the backing vocals add throughout the album. They are at times haunting and at other times they sound somewhat like a band of happy elves. However, as the album creeps slowly along one realizes that something is very wrong. These are not blissful cheery elves that aspire one day to be dentists. No, these are sinister elves that do Atkins’ nefarious bidding, and they do it well.
The album starts off with the brilliant Skywriters, a catchy dreamlike number which showcases Atkins’ powerful vocals as well as her affinity for 60s girl bands. From the opening notes, one is whisked away to a magical world of Ozzie & Harriet gone awry. The saccharine happy pop elusively masks a dark tale about the suicide of a friend. Skywriters is brilliantly constructed with a guitar solo reminiscent of drifting off to sleep on the front porch on a hazy July day.
The beautiful keyboard driven Carousel has a carnival calliope type sound that very quickly captures you in it’s embrace and doesn’t let go.
Atkins’ voice stretches the limits in Great Idea. With its acoustic guitar and country sound, it’s somewhat reminiscent of Atkins’ earlier work on “Those Damn Powerlines” or “Paperhouses”.
While Great Idea briefly offers a respite from faster paced songs on the album, the pace is quickly re-invigorated by the powerful title cut, Party’s Over.
War Torn proves that Atkins can write some potent lyrics. “I’ve been to the front lines, and now there’s no trace of hope left inside.” she croons over a slowly building tempo. “if one’s born into battle, and doesn’t know any other kind of life/ how could the battle seem so bad, when it’s all you’ve known, and all you’ve had?”
Snowshakes paints the picture of a woman perhaps trapped in a loveless marriage and trying to cope as best she can. “…feeling bereaved, late afternoon sleep/ Sometimes the drugs don’t keep you going.”
Delora revisits the carnival theme from Carousel but with a more psychedelic and trippy sound.
Drifter is a slow deliberate song that almost sounds like a requiem of sorts. The closing of the song features a farfisa played over percussion that abruptly ceases, sounding almost like a heart monitor that’s flat lining. It almost gives one the impression that the song has died instead of ended.
The album finishes with its crowning jewel, Neptune City, a song about lost innocence and the relinquishing of the hope of reliving past glory. “I’m sitting over, Neptune city/ I used to love it/ It used to be pretty/ I’ll come down, walk around a while until I’m sure, I can never go home again”.
Nicole Atkins has the rare ability to craft songs that make one feel happy and sad all at once. Atkins’ voice runs the gamut of being overpowering on tracks like Party’s Over to hypnotic on Drifter. With its combination of amazing vocals, slightly off kilter Christmasy or Christmas-like music and clever lyrics, Party’s Over will keep you mesmerized.
-- Leo Zaccari, Assistant Program Director
WBJB 90.5 The NIGHT
--
- Upstage Magazine
Nicole Atkins
"Party's Over"
Self Released
www.nicoleatkins.com
Nicole Atkins is a singer/songwriter that has crafted an album that she refers to as a collection of 1940's ballads and a total psychedelic freakout. Although many have grouped her in the East Village Antifolk scene, I feel that Nicole's music is strong enough to speak for itself. "Party's Over" was produced by David Muller(Fiery Furnaces/Fisherspooner) and rides the plain of the unexpected. Filled with female backing harmonies/choruses the songs take on a ghost like backdrop that would fit perfect in a David Lynch film. This is such a strong debut that it entices you to go see her perform live along with her bandmates; Dan Chen, Dan Mintzer, Damien Ball, and April Smith.
- Crashinin.com
Nicole Atkins
"Party's Over"
Self Released
www.nicoleatkins.com
Nicole Atkins is a singer/songwriter that has crafted an album that she refers to as a collection of 1940's ballads and a total psychedelic freakout. Although many have grouped her in the East Village Antifolk scene, I feel that Nicole's music is strong enough to speak for itself. "Party's Over" was produced by David Muller(Fiery Furnaces/Fisherspooner) and rides the plain of the unexpected. Filled with female backing harmonies/choruses the songs take on a ghost like backdrop that would fit perfect in a David Lynch film. This is such a strong debut that it entices you to go see her perform live along with her bandmates; Dan Chen, Dan Mintzer, Damien Ball, and April Smith.
- Crashinin.com
Discography
Still working on that hot first release.
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Bio
“This is the record I’ve been wanting to make since I was 12,” says Nicole Atkins. “It has so many layers, it’s able to do whatever it wants without defining itself as one thing.”
It’s been a tumultuous three years since the release of Atkins’ acclaimed 2007 debut, Neptune City, but the wait has proved worth it. Mondo Amore is a courageous, provocative work, fraught with dramatic tension, sweeping emotions, and musical ambition. With Atkins’ remarkable voice commanding attention at the forefront, songs like “My Baby Don’t Lie” and the searing “This Is For Love” capture the raw ache and self-reflective disillusionment of a love gone bad. Daytrotter described Atkins’ recent session as “a pretty soundtrack to violent waters,” which the New Jersey-born singer/songwriter sees as a spot-on portrayal of the album itself.
“When you listen to it, it feels like a movie,” Atkins says. “From the beginning of it, the first song is ‘Vultures,’ which is a perfect intro song to what the actual record is about. And by the time you hear the end, with ‘The Tower,’ it’s almost like your stomach hurts, because you can feel the pain in it.”
Mondo Amore has its genesis in a time of extreme turbulence for Atkins, a period which saw her parting ways with her former (major) label while also dealing with the painful termination of “a relationship that should’ve ended two years before it actually did.” As if all that weren’t enough, her former backing band, The Sea, abandoned ship just a week into the January 2010 start of recording the new album.
“Things got kinda weird and dark,” she says. “Writing these songs was my way of trying to work out what was happening. I was breaking up with my boyfriend, my band, and my label, all at the same time.”
Having spent the past few years living in her native Asbury Park, Atkins dealt with these seismic shifts by returning to her adopted home of Brooklyn. Despite limited resources, she rallied her many musical friends – including guitarists David Moltz and Irina Yalkowsky, bassist Jeremy Kay, and drummer Chris Donofrio – and set to work at The Seaside Lounge Recording Studio in Park Slope. Most significantly, producer Phil Palazzolo (A.C. Newman, Ted Leo & The Pharmacists) offered his services behind the glass.
“Working with Phil has been one of the best experiences ever,” she says. “I’ll have an idea and he’ll say, ‘Okay, let’s try it.’ Whereas other producers would say, ‘Are you serious? That’ll never work.’ Working with Phil felt like hanging out with my best friend every day.”
Atkins’ goal from the get-go was to create a more volatile sound than she had ever previously attempted, a sonic approach akin to such influences as Scott Walker and Nick Cave, while also touching on longtime inspirations like the blues and classic 60s psychedelic rock.
“The production of the last record was a little bit too cheery for my taste,” Atkins says. “It was really lush and pretty and this time I wanted to deconstruct the sound a little bit. With everything that was going on, and because of the subject matter, I knew I needed something more aggressive.”
Through it was undeniably painful, Atkins is strikingly pragmatic about her relationship’s end, describing the breakup as “dark and sad and sexy, rather than bitter and pissed.” As such, songs like “You Were The Devil” and “War Is Hell” (featuring counterpoint vocals from My Morning Jacket’s Jim James) display a deep range of emotional feedback, with Atkins bravely taking ownership of her own role in the scenario.
“I don’t think any of these songs are mean,” she says. “I feel like they’re putting blame on both people, rather than just ‘You’re a jerk.’ It’s more of a passive/aggressive apology letter for me being crazy too.”
As for her separation with her label, Atkins explains simply, “I knew where I was going with the record so I said, ‘Look, if you don’t hear it, I hear it, so just let me go.’” One happy by-product came from an A&R rep’s suggestion that Atkins team up with another songwriter in an effort to craft a mainstream hit. The idea, while misbegotten, struck a chord and Atkins entered into collaboration with one of her all-time favorite tunesmiths, Robert Harrison of Austin, Texas’ psych-pop legends Cotton Mather and Future Clouds & Radar. The two came together after Atkins waxed effusive about Harrison in an Austin Chronicle interview. Moved by what he’d read in his local paper, Harrison reached out to Atkins via MySpace and a fast friendship was formed, resulting in two of Mondo Amore’s standout tracks: “Cry, Cry, Cry” and “Hotel Plaster.”
“Writing music by yourself can be a pretty lonely thing,” Atkins says. “Working with Robert was like having a musical friend to rant about your life with and then jam. He was almost living my life with me, helping me try to make sense of everything. It was cool for both of us because neither of us had ever written with somebody else before. I’m pretty sure I’m going to write song
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