Yoko Ono’s Incomparable Warzone
A sort of a disclaimer here: I’ve known Yoko Ono for many years, or at least had the pleasure of interviewing her several times, as I have her son Sean. I like both of them very much. I’ve checked them out on different levels, tried to cut through any of the potential typical self-self-self-hyping showbiz bullshit or what have you, and they passed the tests with flying colors. They are real people, with good hearts and minds. (You’ll just have to trust me on that.)Thus my understanding of and sympathy for Yoko Ono colors my critical soul a little bit, I don’t mind saying it. I want to approve and feel enthusiasm about her music; this means I’m open to it. And I do feel that Ono’s latest and, one hopes, not final record,Warzone — a collection of 13 songs from her past work, spanning 1970–2009 — is the best album of her career. It is deep, and moving, unlike anything I’ve heard in a long time, and perhaps never have heard before.
These are old songs dusted off and reimagined in minimalist ways to exhibit their high relevance in 2018, a year of profound turmoil. This album is among other things quite sad, or say bittersweet. It’s also subtly humorous, poppy peppy, sugary melodious, and brutal. Amid what the Brazilians would term the saudade or bittersweet wistfulness of several of these tracks, though, we never hear regret, not exactly.
Is this the way things are going to be? She asks the question in multiple ways. The title track starts with audio collage bringing “sounds of war” atop jangling prepared piano tones. “Wake up!” Ono hollers. She calls for no more “high-minded talk.” She and her sound field are harsh, grim. There’s no assured speech of peace ’n’ love here, though somehow the musical tones/textures/voice plead; those tones are bleak, they’re dull gray, muddied green-browns and black; quick flairs of sonic red and orange are not life-affirming within the context of this declaration of emergency. Things are bad. Look around you.
Still, with Yoko Ono, things, life, it can never be all bad; there can always be a shade of hope. But we do have to wake up. Interestingly, Ono here sounds as if she’s been pushed too far, close to the edge; there’s for the first time something that sounds in that voice like weariness, not quite despair, but pessimism, fear, even. . .
To read the rest of Payne’s review, go to Riot Material magazine: https://www.riotmaterial.com/yoko-onos-incomparable-warzone/
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