I will be writing a column on Length & Time in music, in each presenting an album and its strategies that pertain to addressing Length & Time.
Feigen Feigen begins at its cover art: an odd bird and an odd rabbit. Each is rendered psychedelically, albeit a soft city psychedelia, intellectual and seemingly rooted in anthropology.
That the bird has the rabbit’s head and the rabbit the bird’s is a prelude to the album’s musical art. These are artful songs, though none as direct as Edith Piaf’s, Massenet’s, or Barbara’s, etc, and closer to a Lou Reed’s. They are all difference being sung to those who are accustomed to the expected in terms of text put to music. I’d recommend listening to the entire album, before choosing a particular beloved.
Venus? Dionysius? Or is this the work of one of Pan’s sirens? Is this meant to be danced? Listened to politically, in order write liberty all over, to paraphrase Paul Elouard? I’d argue that this is the work of the help of a postmodern Venus, product of a dream that a woman once had to produce music that would both infatuate and impose: there are two question marks on the front cover for that purpose.