Kristeen Young - Music For Strippers, Hookers, and the Odd On-Looker Review

Posted by Vanessa Willoughby on 11.30.2009

What’s pint-sized, operatic, and grandiose? Look no further than Kristeen Young. The St. Louis native says that, "An album should be a spectrum of emotion. Far too often, people just deliver one thing. I try to run the gamut." However, is Music For Strippers, Hookers, and the Odd On-Looker truly the emotional whirlwind as intended?



TRACK LISTING:
1. Son Of Man
2. The Depression Contest
3. Stop Thinking
4. Everybody Wants Me To Cry
5. You Must Love Me
6. That's What It Takes, Dear
7. I Won't Be Home For Christmas
8. Comfort Is Never A Goal
9. He's Sickened By My Crude Emotion
10. Lily Sincere (Instrumental)
11. Keyboard Like A Gun
12. If You Marry Him
13. Protestant
14. Halfway Across The Atlantic Ocean

What’s pint-sized, operatic, and grandiose? Look no further than Kristeen Young. With the release of Music for Strippers, Hookers, and the Odd On-Looker, St. Louis native Kristeen Young follows in the footsteps of power-house vocalists such as Tori Amos, Regina Spektor, and Aimee Mann. Yet the undeniably eclectic feel of the album can also draw comparisons to a band like the Dresden Dolls. Hoping to crush the preconceptions about piano-based music, Young said that, “I wanted it to sound like a wall of pianos, but like the wall in the film, Caligula: a wall that moves and decapitates everyone.”

Certainly, with Music for Strippers, Young achieves her goal, creating a fourteen track album that relentlessly pushes both the vocals and piano to their utmost extreme. Performing under the name KRISTEENYOUNG, the singer is joined by drummer Jeff White. The pair worked with producer Tony Visconti, who has also worked with T. Rex, Adam Ant, David Bowie, and Morrissey. The majority of Music for Strippers... was composed during the two-year stretch that the band was on tour, first as the opening act for Morrissey and later, for Ted Leo and the Pharmacists.

Young herself is familiar with musical heavyweights, as she’s provided backup vocals to David Bowie’s album Heathen, Anti-Flag’s The Bright Lights of America and Morrissey’s “That’s How People Grow Up” and “Sweetie Pie.” However, with Music for Strippers..., Young is allowed to take the stage front and center, showcasing her range and impressive skill. It’s safe to say that there isn’t anything about the album that is lackluster or half-hearted. Young transforms the piano into an almost animalistic force of nature, ensuring that the music itself provides a balance to her own vocals.

“Son Of Man,” the first track, starts off with drums and then immediately introduces Young’s vocal prowess. Young condemns an ex-lover, seamlessly weaving in and out of various octaves. The venom in her voice is strengthened by the lyrics:

Never again will I let you in.
Never again. Never again.
Not by the flair of your cheeky chin-chin.
Never again, on a whim, my house blown-in.
I, once, swallowed you.
Then, you swallowed me.
Now it’s all just shit, Son.

Much like Kate Bush, Young has full command of the range and power of her voice. There’s something sweetly ethereal and simultaneously cutting about Young’s vocals, creating an odd duality that only reflects the music itself.

With the second track, “The Depression Contest,” the piano is even more pronounced and up-front, as Young once again channels Kate Bush. Recalling Young’s vision for the entire album, there’s nothing delicate or serene about the musical arrangement. Young purposefully uses the piano as an extension of her voice, pounding and banging on the keys as though the instrument itself were a child’s toy. She sings:

My pain is more abstract…na, na, na, na
and greater than yours.
My tears are more nuanced…na, na, na, na
and deeper than yours.
So, pity me. Harder, pity me. Faster, pity ME.
My story’s an epic…na, na, na, na,
Forget telling yours.
You can try,
but your stock strife
won’t win my
Depression Contest.

The third track, “Stop Thinking,” once again capitalizes on the idea that the piano is an extension of the singer’s voice. The drums initially open the song, only to lead way to the dominating pound of the piano. Young’s voice epitomizes the song’s moment s of chaos offset by moments of clarity. Even the lyrics reflect the quirkiness of Young’s voice:

Your witty words said have got you ahead,
wherever (oh, oh, oh, oh).
Yes, we butter our bread with your jumbo egghead.
However (oh, oh, oh, oh),
If you don’t head down, you could crack your crown,
and sever (oh, oh, oh, oh).
Your thoughts feel like lead. Here’s my lap for your head.
FEEL BETTER! (Oh, oh, oh, oh)

“Everybody Wants Me To Cry” has a slower tempo than the previous songs, utilizing Young’s voice in a way that seems much more operatic than before. Full of regret and remorse, Young’s lyrics seem as though they would seem right at home on a Morrissey record, as she laments about alienation and homesickness.

“That’s What It Takes, Dear” features Patrick Stump of Fall Out Boy. Although it seems like an unlikely combination, Young and Stump make a surprisingly harmonized pair, as their voices compete like two prize-fighters circling the ring. However, it goes without saying that Young steals the show, as Stump’s voice is never able to fully get beyond his own sound and rise to Young’s level. This isn’t to say that Stump is a total mismatch. Yet when singing alone, Stump is like the bent puzzle piece that will never again fit in the proper place. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that compared to Young’s startling inflections and vocal gymnastics, Stump is reduced to nothing more than background noise.

The sixth track, “I Won’t Be Home For Christmas,” employs the hint of a tango-esque, dance-hall beat that’s much more reminiscent of a film like Chicago, than Santa and reindeer. In fact, the song seems to look down upon the materialistic aspect of Christmas, as Young brushes aside the festivities and claims that she’s got “better things to do with my time.”

“He’s Sickened By My Crude Emotion” is an exercise in abstract lyrics and the building of tension. The best word to describe the piano can only be “crashing.” The piano is used in a way that is melodious and aggressive, flowing and off-key. Young describes the guilty man in question, who appears to be the complete opposite to Young’s highly expressive nature. Conversation is turned into a game of cat and mouse, as the singer desperately tries to control her emotions.

Oh-Oh-Oh-…St. Louis sits on my lips. Oh-Oh-Oh…But, my keyboard shoots from the hip.
I open with piercing pitch.
My next trick’s Twist and Twitch.
Spill my guts in 5 minutes,
I’m fond of a flashy finish…
So, I take you in my mouth, and throw you about to get a rise out.
He yawns. He sighs.
He’s sickened by my crude emotion.

“Keyboard Like A Gun,” the eleventh track, features a much more electronic influence than witnessed in the other songs. The piano, which seems to heavily mimic a keyboard, is often interrupted by the throbbing of an electronic beat. After the first verse, the temp speeds up and Young proclaims: “My camera’s like a gun!”

Unlike “Son Of Man” or “Stop Thinking,” the eleventh track is an unexpected blend of piano, experimental, and dance-pop, resulting in a whirlwind of sound that resembles a mash-up of Bjork, Ladytron, and Tori Amos.

The final track, “Halfway Across The Atlantic,” has the sweeping grandiosity of a ballad but ultimately resists. The slow progression of the chords and Young’s controlled vocals give off the impression that “Halfway Across The Atlantic” is going to be drawn out and elongated, acting as the perfect tool to bookend an album of extreme highs and lows. However, Young surprises her audience, allowing the tension and energy to build throughout the track. Instead of a song that celebrates love, Young celebrates the power of independence and self-reliance. She sings:

“I have enough rope when you’re
gone, gone, gone. The oven’s cozy when you’re
gone, gone, gone. Prescriptions filled when you are
gone, gone, gone. It’s cocked and loaded when you’re
gone, gone, gone. My knives get sharpened when you’re
gone, gone, gone. It tastes like almonds when you’re
gone, gone, gone. The traffic’s playful when you’re
gone.”

Casting off the anxiety and uncertainty displayed in “Son Of Man,” Young’s lyrics and album come full circle, embodying the calm of the ocean after a violent storm.

The 411: Kristeen Young is the sort of musician that is not only a performer, but an artist. Music For Strippers, Hookers, and the Odd On-Looker will no doubt draw comparisons to highly prominent female-vocalists such as Kate Bush, Tori Amos, and Regina Spektor, but this isn't necessarily a means of undermining Young's own talent. Fortunately, Young clearly has her own vision and thus creates an album that tests the line between art and music.

Final Score:  8.0   [ Very Good ]