With the end of the year coming upon us, it has come the time where music critics from all across the land publish their “Best Albums of 2013” lists. This ritual has best been described by Dan Ozzi from Vice as, “the numerical masturbation ritual.” Though, I will not be participating in this circle jerk of list making, I do want to talk about one album that may have been overlooked by most of you this year: Wheel by Laura Stevenson.
Wheel is Stevenson’s third album and is about the cyclical nature of life, more specifically dying and its downfalls. From songs like “Sink, Swim,” which chronicles apocalyptic like conditions in the state of California, and the single, “Runner,” which talks about the inevitable doom of continuously having to relive a bad memory every year, Stevenson puts her own twist on these themes. She also has mastered juxtaposing her dark lyrics with up beat orchestration. This cleverly masks the meaning of her songs for the average listener, and they could easily think that “Runner” is an ode to summer, even though the chorus pleads, “The summer hurts.”
Wheel also shows musical maturity for Stevenson, and I don’t mean this just in the lyrical sense. In her past albums, A Record and Sit Resist, Stevenson’s lyrics have been dark and apprehensive as well. By musical maturity, I mean the instrumentation of the album is amazing and consistent compared to her first two records. First, the lengths of songs have become more consistent. No song is shorter than 2:30 and run no longer than 6:30. Stevenson has a hit a time range that makes the song have enough room to breath and really give the listener a chance to absorb its meaning.
Stevenson also incorporates the use of non-traditional indie/punk instruments in this album. Strings are heavily used in the song “Every Tense” and brass is used in final song and title track of the album “Wheel.” Both brass and strings are used to punctuate the meaning of songs on many other tracks as well. Though Stevenson has used non-traditional instruments before, this is the first time where they really become critical to the instrumentation of the album compared to some of her earlier material. It’s kind of like a Clarence Clemens’ saxophone in a Bruce Springsteen song; it adds depth and feeling to the song that you can’t get with any other instrument. Though, you could argue that the instrumentation on A Record is just as non-traditional, if not more than Wheel, the songs length on Wheel really gives the instruments time to extenuate their impact. Also, she does divert from using these types of instruments in her sophomore album, Sit Resist, so if you were not the avid Laura Stevenson fan (shame if you aren’t), then you would forget that strings and horns once existed in her music.
Though we see Stevenson take increase risks on Wheel, the album still reminds us why we love the Long Island native. Her voice still resonates with this pure genuine honesty that very few singers can match. Her acoustic songs on the album “Hole” and “The Move,” make the hairs on your arm stand up and give you that sinking feeling in your gut. When “The Move” comes on my iTunes, I stop what I’m doing and just listen to this song that according to Stevenson is about, “ruining someone’s life.” Her lyrics are extremely relatable. I mean, who hasn’t gone through a rough break-up or has been apathetic to the New York football Giants winning the Super Bowl (coming from a Jets fan, that may be a bit biased) or has been drawn back to the chaos of a once lover? Stevenson chronicles these experiences for us in a way that is real and that is extremely visual for the listener to imagine. A true songwriter is one that can paint a picture, not just of human emotion, but one that can take us back to the moment where we felt that exact way. Every song in Wheel does that and does it beautifully.
I know 2013 was an amazing year for music with new albums from Vampire Weekend, The National, Kanye West, and others, but pick up a copy of Wheel. I promise, it’s an album unlike any other that you have listened to this year.
