With the effort we make to look forward, to seek and reward those who take new musical paths or at least try to... I arrive at this Antony (the "the Johnsons" are really just "wallpaper", a bit like Lunapop without Cesare Cremonini...) and, besides deeply striking me in the most intimate present (even though I can't understand how one can't go crazy for women... ;-) he also "forces" me to go back to 1998, the year of his repeatedly reissued debut, and thus findable. Antony is gay, I say it right away not to waste the time of those with certain musical and other prejudices (I hope this is not the case for many inhabitants of the planet Debaser... From what little I "live there", I'd say no). Antony has a wo-n-der-ful voice, Lou Reed called it "angelic." And if he says so... not a fool like me... Lyrics, melodies, and arrangements of a classic singer-songwriter, but he manages to be very personal. A lot of suffering everywhere, but with immense class.
Recommended: to those who welcome anyone with open arms, without knowing their name.
Not recommended: to those who go with trans people but by day say they hate gays.
Your heart, after listening, will never be the same.
Perhaps a single word can encapsulate the essence of this album: unique.
This album encapsulates the story of a child, perhaps recounted by a kind of Pierrot, on a rainy night in the warmth of circus caravans.
It is one of the most moving albums I’ve heard lately.
Antony’s voice is not only inimitable but also of a painful, unparalleled beauty.
His music is a continuous pulse of life agglomerated to the despair that cries out for help.
It is evident that Thomas Newman has worked mostly for cinema. He knows when the sound needs to be drier and when fuller, when it should engage and when it should allow the protagonist’s breath to be heard.
A woman’s voice that seems like a man’s, for a man who tries to be a woman.