She’s so open in talking about her own creative growth and the development of this latest project.
The album is potent: comprised of a diverse range of songs, it feels cohesive, and therefore radical in its multifaceted, holistic rendering of women’s voices. And beyond that there is the pleasure of Giddens’ singing and the album’s deft arrangements, the coherence of her various influences. We can hear on this album her passion for old American music and folk songs, her classical training and the years she’s spent developing and honing her particular talent, the imprint of spirituals and country and swinging downbeat grooves, and the occasional Celtic lilt of her part-time life in Ireland.
Giddens’ choices create an album at once intriguing and provocative, wideranging and empathetic and profoundly evocative. In honoring this particular assemblage of women and their songs, she crafts what feels like a contemporary mandate. This album insists on a certain, far-expanded and complicated understanding of where we’ve come from; it makes demands of us now.
(“Waterboy” feels like a particularly apt song to listen to this week as we all struggle to listen better and more empathetically.)
I’ve been particularly loving her renderings of “Black is the Color” and “Last Kind Words,” which sent me into a spiral of research the other night. This recent piece of long-form journalism from the New York Times Magazine offers particularly valuable insight into this staggering song and the fascinating story behind the two women singers and guitarists who made it.