Benton Harbour Blues - The Fiery Furnaces

When Matthew and Eleanor Friedberger, aka The Fiery Furnaces, get things right it is difficult to dispute they are brilliant beyond analogy. Whilst their music can often find them squeezing anything from prog to free jazz to electronic experimentation into extremely listenable pop songs, their lyrics can tread similarly obscurist territory, like fighting pirates on a ship transporting blueberries, getting abducted by fishermen in Spain, or documenting the songs of Finnish servant girls. Dull they are not. However, when they get it wrong they can be either bemusing (a concept album about the life of their grandmother, sung by their grandmother), or just plain frustrating (each and every one of their live performances). Geniuses they may be, but consistent they are not.

The band's fourth album, Bitter Tea, contains both this astonishing genius and their unfortunate inconsistency. I'd give up my 1980s Fitzroy Football Club drink coasters in defence of the futuristic doo-wop of "Waiting To Know You" or the tape-manipulated pop of "Nevers!", but I find impossible to sit patiently through the meandering backwards brain-spazz of "The Vietnamese Telephone Ministry" (no matter how awesome the title is), or the just plain boring "Black-Hearted Boy". Whilst the album may not reach awesome heights of their second album "Blueberry Boat", or their current masterpiece "Widow City" (third best album of the year, by the way), it does contain what I consider to be their best song, "Benton Harbour Blues" (referring to "Chief Inspector Blancheflower" as merely "a song" seems degrading. It exists on a higher plane).

What is initial most notable about "Benton Harbour Blues" is its emotional evocation. Whilst Eleanor's voice perfectly suits the absurdist adventures her and her brother usually find themselves in, "Benton Harbour Blues" proves that she's more than capable of giving the heart-strings a tug as well. Whilst Eleanor's vocals might be the obvious focal point of the song, it Matthew's muted organ, tick-tock drum-machine and delayed acoustic guitar that provide the canvass for her to work with. Not known for their subtle arrangements, "Benton Harbour Blues" is enhanced greatly by them exhibiting some restraint for once.

I must admit that I feel a significant affinity with this song. Most people who know me would testify that I've done, and do, very little with my life, and so it's not hard to nod my head in recognition with an opening line like: "As I try to fill all of my empty days, I stumble 'round on through my memory's maze". Staring at the walls, sifting "On through the past, only the sadness stays".
It wouldn't be a Fiery Furnaces song without some first-person active proclamation, and so Eleanor states matter-of-factly "I went moping down by the bridge. I rode a bike in the snow to the mini-mart", yet the weight of her sorrow can't be eroded with a king-sized pack of M&Ms as she solemnly sighs "I thought of the ways that I had broke my own heart". The key to this song is subtle depiction of sadness. A single tear running down a cheek has more of a melancholic impact than some hysterical outburst and this is an impression Eleanor notes perfectly with her closing lines "Well, it's not for me to fill the blue sea with tears. But when I think back on all of the wasted years, all the good cheer and all of the charm disappears".

Benton Harbour Blues - The Fiery Furnaces