Aimee Mann
Lost In Space

Have you ever had the feeling of being lost in space? Well, that’s the mood that gave birth to the fourth album by Aimee Mann, an American singer-songwriter, already the leader of ‘Til Tuesday, who gained a certain international notoriety a few years ago thanks to the (beautiful) soundtrack of Magnolia. Solitude, distrust in the world and interpersonal relationships (as well as with record labels, with whom she has had not a few problems in the past), emotional dryness, issues related to drug addiction: these are the main themes of this little jewel.

The extremely clean melodies, vaguely Beatlesque, are supported by solid yet overall sparse arrangements, as in the most delicate singer-songwriter pop, and accompanied by sorrowful lyrics yet illuminated by an indomitable hope. “Humpty Dumpty”, paced by a piano, leaves no doubt about the author’s stance (“I’m not the girl you once put your faith in, just someone who looks like me”). But if the past is inexorably “past,” the most appropriate reaction is to look ahead (“So better take your keys and drive forever”). The muted waltz of “High On Sunday 52” soars into a radiant country chorus, but it ends too soon. Almost as cohesive as if it were a concept album, Lost In Space has in “Pavlov’s Bell” the only misleading moment, but the fervor that pervades that refrain, even as it projects it almost into indie-rock territories, doesn't clash with the prevailing soft agreeableness. The magical “Real Bad News” (“You paint a lovely picture but reality intrudes, with a message for you, and it’s real bad news”) and “Invisible Ink” are subdued self-analyses generated by despondency, where Aimee shows a romantic heroine posture, perpetually at odds with the world. However, the hope that distinguishes her attitude towards life soon brings her back to a nobly trusting state of mind for the future (in “Today’s The Day”). The last song, It’s Not (emotional singing, minimalist guitar, plucked strings) seems to take it all back (“I believe it’s you who could make it better, though it’s not”). This journey could not end in a more desolate manner, and perhaps the only solution is really to get lost in space: but after all, as one of her pieces says, “This Is How It Goes”, that’s how things go, when you have the courage to face life for what it is.

The bitterly mature lyrics, the crystalline and clear voice, the sounds as clean and bright as a spring sky, paint a truly unparalleled portrait of an artist, extraordinarily adult: I bow before such elegance.