I have to admit, I was skeptical. Gaiman has long been one of my favorite authors. And anyone who has listened to one of his audiobooks or readings will attest to his eloquence and oratorical skills. Still, an album of music? I worried he was stretching himself a step too far.
I needn't have worried. This is a unique, atmospheric, and gorgeous pairing of words and music. For some of the pieces, Gaiman reads his words; for others, he speaks with a musical cadence and rhythm; and for at least one, he fully sings. FourPlay provides other voices and singing. Their instruments don't merely provide a background to highlight the words, they are a full partner, integral to the aural experience. Somewhat ethereal and haunting, sometimes almost jaunty and whimsical, often providing a tension to match darker topics and themes. I'm not practiced at describing music, but I know this reveals the tone of Gaiman's writing better than anything I could have imagined. The music is just as enjoyable as the lyrics.
The first song, Clock, is a poem about time, with words selected from Shakespeare. The next, Mobius strip, builds a metaphor for life while recalling a moment with a grandfather. There's a song from the perspective of a vampire, and one from the perspective of a song. There are thoughts on history, on intellectual freedom, and one lark about dealing with the bloodthirsty ghost of Joan of Arc. And a couple of meditations on death. Almost all, in some way, reflect on mortality, aging, and impact of time. The album is often funny, sometimes heartbreaking, and always insightful and moving.
Highly recommended.
I'm old now. And I'm young. I'm somewhere on the strip, we all are, walking the sign of infinity. Into the darkness. And I'm looking for signs of life in my memory, reflected in the mirror.
I'm a Möbius strip. We all are.
We only ever see one face. It's the twist that brings you back where you started.