White Hinterland
Phylactery Factory

THE REVIEW

I am a latecomer. But better late than never.

The creature with blond fur, doe-eyed gaze, nightingale voice, and compositional skills typical of only a small slice of (fortunate?) chosen ones belonging to what theoretically should be the most elevated animal race, is not a monstrous mutant humanoid risen from the ashes of a zoo, but the charming singer-songwriter - by her real name Casey Dienel, born in 1985 -, pianist and much more, who, after debuting in 2006 with an avoidable self-titled album, renewed her skin, conceived the project White Hinterland, and released, in 2008, this first "Phylactery Factory". Her best work.

Her voice is the link between Mitchell's soprano, Harriet Wheeler’s tone (Lindberghs + Metal Bird), and the fairy-tale singing of Newsom. And in her music, an undefinable alternative-pop with jazz nuances, made of ancient atmospheres, old (The Destruction of the Art Deco House), rhymes as sweet as honey (Hometown Hooray), and lullabies on which Dienel's delightful uncertain voice breaks (Calliope), the elixir of tranquility is contained.

The influences are truly many; in addition to those already mentioned, one cannot help but notice the dreamy atmospheres à la Lisa Germano on A Beast Washed Ashore, an arcadefireian crescendo in Napoleon at Waterloo, the danceable attempts of Laura Nyro in Dreaming of the Plum Trees, Regina Spektor, and Cat Power somewhere else. Perhaps in the pian(t)o of Calliope.

The swan song of the work is the conclusive Vessels, a track almost detached from the rest of the album; a sort of funeral litany - whatever that means - for ukulele, to celebrate, as is right, the end of the phylactery factory's saga.

In short, it eluded me for three years, don’t miss it from this point on.

Highly recommended.