Xiu Xiu
Nina

Jamie Stewart, an eternal curious child trapped in the body of a depressed forty-year-old, has grown up. 
Passionate about Haiku and bird-watching, Stewart abandons the look that made him even stranger -but incredibly sincere, true, not pretentious- than he already is: away with the socks, colorful backpacks, and shorts. Jamie is now in his forties and presents himself to his audience in a tie, as an unlikely crooner of the third millennium. 
The idea behind this album is at the very least ambitious: to reinterpret the classics of his personal idol (in this case Nina Simone, always the favorite artist of the Xiu Xiu leader) in an experimental-noise fashion. 
Accompanied by the loyal Angela Seo and even Michael Gira, "Nina" is a personal act of love to his muse.

Let's say right away that it's not an album for everyone: it's an album purely aimed at die-hard fans of the Californian band (like me) or those who already know and love Nina Simone. Because it's a risky album. As those who follow them in every step of their career know well, in their "minor" releases, Xiu Xiu take all the liberties of the case: so, it's not unusual for them to release an album of white noise a month, or to make extreme cover versions of Pussycat Dolls and Rihanna, or to limit themselves to repeating "yes/no/perhaps" for twenty minutes, and so on.

"Nina" is a risky album, to say the least. Musically, it's exceptional: it's unruly jazz, extremely enjoyable, free in the most radical sense of the word. Among the eleven covers, only "See Line Woman" (irresistible) manages to immediately capture, proving to be even catchy and danceable. With a voice broken by tears, at times even delirious, Stewart enchants, shocks, growls, even managing to overturn a classic masterpiece like "Four Women", transforming it into a liberating scream. And then there's the opener "Don't Smoke In Bed", depressed-depressing litany on layers of horns that increase chills and tears, while for others it may just increase yawns. Never before have Xiu Xiu released an album that divides their audience so thoroughly.
We are far from the absolute peaks of the masterpiece "A Promise", but the strength of this music is great even in a minor release, in this list of covers that are merely a tribute. There's inspiration, there's breath, there's genius. So we float between the apocalypse of noise of "You'd Be So Nice" (splendid), the beautiful spontaneity of "Just Say I Love Him" and the playful "Pirate Jenny", until we sink into the intense and atmospheric "Flo Me La".

If Jamie Stewart has always shown us how one could make a devastating and unforgettable song with the minimum and with absolute expressive freedom, here the opposite happens: everything is fabricated, layered. There are sounds, colors, distortions. Everything is compact, elegant, and refined, but at the same time absolutely out of control. And so when the last gasp of "Don't Smoke In Bed"  fades, a lump rises in my throat.

Jamie has matured, he has certainly grown up, but he has never stopped breaking hearts. Fortunately.