Alexandria – Caithlin De Marrais
Voicemail – Caithlin De Marrais
What happens if one of the finest records of the year is released but no one writes about it? This is something being tested right now, with virtually zero discussion of the debut solo record from Caithlin De Marrais (formerly of Rainer Maria). It’s baffling because Rainer Maria were at least a moderately well-known band in the indie/emo circles. And it’s especially confusing because My Magic City is almost certainly better than any of their many fine albums.
Where Rainer Maria was overwrought, emotional, and loud (in a good way, most of the time) on this record Caithlin sings in a dusky voice over introspective, organic music. The maturity of sound and perspective hinted at by the later Rainer Maria records is now here in full force. Often, maturity can be a code-word for dull, but that is definitely not the case here.
Instead, it is an openness to ambiguity, a gentle tension. It allows for a sense of warmth that is impossible in records with a less sophisticated emotional core. The songs on this record breathe like living beings. They move at their own pace, and reveal themselves slowly.
Given this, it should come as no surprise that this record was recorded spontaneously – often being invented or changed on the spot. Even more, they were recorded in old churches, cottages, apartments. Such projects often collapse into a disorganized mess, but when they work…oh, when they work the result is something magical. If you can catch the moment of invention on tape, there is this indescribable looseness, this feeling of newness etched into the air.
Within the first few seconds of the record, on the bittersweet “Voicemail” you can already sense that something special is at work here. Caithlin’s voice begins hushed, as if scared of rising too far beyond the light brushwork of the drums. As the song continues you can almost sense her and the band exploring the space around them – delving into corners, probing at the limits. It’s followed by “Outer Space is Still Sexy” which weaves together the youthful dreams of time machines and the distance of space with an older, world-weary desire for escape. There’s no narrative per se, only a series of images, fleeting but powerful.
All of which brings me back to that word: magic. The great power of this record is the way it imbues the most simple, mundane moments with just a touch of magic. The point is not to create fantastical stories or overpowering emotions, but rather to tread lightly, to focus in on the spaces in between. See, for example, the many repetitions of: “Hold tight, we’ll be alright. Love is on our side” in “The Cottage.” This line is delivered with a tiredness, a sense of quiet sadness, but also with determination. It’s not a rallying call or a belief in love that shatters world – it’s the simple recognition of how people drag themselves through tough times without succumbing to the pain and sadness.
But perhaps the finest example is “Alexandria” – absolutely brimming with the gentle pathos of everyday life on the road, the confusion, the fights, the aches and pains. Living for the dream that you might hear that song that you poured all your heart into on some late-night radio station. It’s everything great that was never quite possible on all those Rainer Maria records: simple humanity and shared laughter.
One final song deserving special mention is “Carefully,” which seems to be about the sense of absolute wonderment experienced by a new parent. Particularly the feeling of terror at realizing how someone now depends on you utterly and completely. It’s a small microcosm for the whole album: a dawning awareness of the simple joys to be found in the world.
All of which brings me back to my original question: why is this wonderful album not being talked about by everyone? C’mon people, this one has album of the year potential. Stream the whole album here and then buy yourself a copy.