Rufus Wainwright New Album

Welcome back readers. Now, as many of you have probably heard, Rufus Wainwright has a brand spanking new album out called ‘All Days Are Nights: Songs For Lulu’. Joy abundant, obviously. But this is not the album a fan would expect from Rufus at this stage, and in turn I don’t think this is the album the critics would have you believe. Let me explain.

The album opens with the fairly subdued but still fast-paced ‘Who Are You New York?’ Though lacking Rufus trademark orchestral lushness, and certainly different even from the slightly more rounded pop sensibilities of his previous album ‘Release The Stars’, this opening track harks back to ‘Poses’ or ‘Want One’ – its closest relative probably being ‘The Art Teacher’. So far, nothing out of the ordinary. Then comes ‘Sad With What I Have’. Once again, it’s just Rufus and his piano, channelling jazz and blues…and the album continues in a similar way. There are no other instruments, no grand choirs, not even a backing vocal. And while many of the sentiments and lyrics retain some of the inate Wainwright melodrama, this album really represents a different side of Rufus.

We certainly get some surprises. Remember when Rufus brilliantly set Shakespeare’s Sonnet 29 to music? Here he does the same thing with not one, but three more sonnets. I heard them for the first time when he performed them in Paris last summer, and was blown away. Rufus has a real talent for seeking out the truth of a lyric and matching it to music, and vice versa – so the effect is not lost on record. Later in the album, he includes ‘Les Feux D’Artifice T’Appelant’, an aria from his recent opera ‘Prima Donna’, sung entirely in French. It takes a very brave man and an immensely assured talent to release an album that contains a substantial amount of material gleaned from Shakespeare and French opera.

Things do get more sombre later on, but there are bright spots; as Rufus says ‘The world needs both the sun and the moon too’. So, the otherwise quiet and reflective ‘True Loves’ contains some lush, soaring piano solos; ‘The Dream’ twists, turns and takes us on a journey through what Rufus encounters in a waking daze and what keeps him from sleeping; and ‘Give Me What I Want And Give It To Me Now!’ is up-tempo, upbeat, and somehow manages to sound like a mixture between honky-tonk and a Bernard Herrman film score. The title of this last track is, perhaps, a knowing nod to Rufus’ famous diva-esque tendencies and massive ego. And maybe that was a deliberate deception, because Rufus is not being self-indulgent on this album. The main reason being that the emotional core of this record is Rufus living through his Mother’s illness and eventual death.

When emotion is so raw, I think an artist’s way of expressing themselves become simpler and more explicit. It seems as if there is no way to ‘dress up’ something so painful and immediate. The greatest example I can give here is Virginia Woolf. She was one of the 20^th century’s greatest writers. Her dense, beautiful prose was groundbreaking and, though much copied, has rarely been matched. Yet personally, I feel that her most powerful words were the final ones she wrote in a note to her beloved husband, Leonard, just before she committed suicide:

Dearest.

I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier 'til this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that — everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer. I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been. V.

The sparse, simple language conveys more than any affected, decorous poetry could have. And here Rufus – a man who we associate with words like ‘melodrama’ ‘opera’ ‘orchestra’ ‘diva’, dispenses with theatre. He is so numb with suffering and grief that as his Mother is dying, he simply leaves his sister an answer phone message warning her that she is on her way out. He asks who has never had to bleed in their life. He tells the imaginary friend of his childhood matter-of-factly that his Mother is in the hospital. He also tells us he’s in love, but doesn’t want to talk about it – perhaps telling us that this is a raw, personal work.

Consider Rufus’ hectic schedule these past few years: ‘Release The Stars’ was a pretty epic endeavour, as was his Judy Garland tribute at Carnegie Hall, which spawned a double album and a rigorous touring schedule. Fans who saw Rufus live at this time were treated to a kind of two-part set: the first half had him singing songs from his new album and favourites from his back catalogue, while in the second half he transformed into an outfit reminiscent of Garland in ‘A Star Is Born’ (complete with stockings and suspenders) and belted out some of her classics. I was treated to this sight on at least three separate occasions. Lucky me! He then managed to follow this up by writing an entire opera from scratch, and to complicate matters further he decided to write it in French. His Mother, by now very ill, managed to see the premiere of ‘Prima Donna’ but died just before this album was released. So maybe Rufus felt that, his Mother’s illness aside, that it was time to get back to doing what he did best, and what comes most naturally to most musicians. He wanted to sit down at the piano and write. Perhaps being presented so immediately with a sense of mortality made the grand excesses of the last few years seem frivolous.

Some reviews claim that ‘Songs For Lulu’ is morbid and inaccessible. I can assure you this is not the case. Rufus does not dwell on the subject of death or revel in misery. The musical arrangements are definitely not designed to alienate anyone. The lyrics are personal and touching but in no way depressing. The overall effect is one of beauty, and it reminds you that much as we love his more ostentatious work, Rufus is an astoundingly talented musician who loses nothing by trying to progress and bring different qualities to his music.

Absolutely beautiful. Get it now.

Peace xx