KAREN BETH - Nothing Lasts

(MS)

In Andrew Wyeth's 1948 painting "Christina's World", his subject is settled on the prairie peering longingly towards a homestead in the near distance. 

A disconnected barn signals isolated farm-life, the great outdoors and a world hidden from the grinding cogs of men. There is a heavy atmosphere of entrapment and … something unsettling in the air. And the subject of the painting and clue to the title reveals all, for the woman was crippled with a muscular problem and preferred to crawl than use a wheelchair. The portrait literally frames the frontiers of her world, physically endured through the palms of calloused hands and legs, dragged torturously over needles of sheared corn. Years later the subtle tragedy of the image was gloriously defiled by the makers of the Texas Chain Saw Massacre in an eye-catching poster that explicitly connected the otherworldliness of backwoods life with schlock horror. And such is the dark continental interior of gothic Americana.

 

This all comes to mind as I find myself immersed in a listening cycle of late 60s female singer songwriters of whom the mysterious Karen Beth was one. The mystery is not so much the performer, she was recording well into the 1980’s, but more where this recording came from. We have an early record sleeve where she comes over as a girl who may have sang harmonies in a church harmony group that got a slot on the Pat Boone Show and who was then pushed into the studio to try a folk-pop song when everybody was desperate for another Sound of Silence. And then we have her first LP “The Joys of Life” with her standing in a tree, kinda blurry, her features enmeshed in the branches, the camera a strange distance away from her face. It’s almost as if she didn't really want to be recognised. And scoring the LP was a veteran of Peter, Paul and Mary sessions, suggesting a middle of the road conservatism gently letting loose. And finally there is her voice. It doesn’t sound like a voice that spent time honing these songs in smoke-filled city folk-cellars. Its reticent, repressed almost. There is something being held back in her delivery which enhances the mystery.

In an act of sublime sequencing (the much neglected root of auteur album construction) the song Nothing Lasts is preceded by an acapella piece of Xian-folk Shepherd of the Mountain where she invites the afore-mentioned to spiritually enter her body. In the context of the preceding sweet yet mournful songs it lands like a celestial visitation and echoing as from a cave, heavily sets up the blissful Sermon from the Mount that follows. Nothing Lasts oozes into the ears with sweetly strummed acoustic guitars and an amplified upright bass bubbling around the soundscape. The piano seems to be deliberately underplayed dancing like spiders on velvet drapes and half-way through delivers the most minimal and devastating eight note solo ever heard. The lyric is wise and impressive, “Forget the past, nothing lasts” repeats throughout, each time seemingly delivered with an ever so slightly enhanced fervour. It’s all things must pass-forever changes mantra is both life affirming and humbling. During the recording George C Scott was filming “Patton” with its famous line “For over a thousand years Roman conquerors returning from the wars enjoyed the honour of triumph…A slave stood behind the conqueror, holding a golden crown, and whispering in his ear a warning: that all glory is fleeting”. It could have been used on billboards to promote this record. It should be used on billboards now.

Some wish.

 

(JS)

 

The penultimate track of singer songwriter’s Karen Beth’s debut. A saddish song accompanied with a mixture of folk and electric guitar, with a voice that’s not quite as strong as the material demands. This essential mismatch is the foundation of the artist's appeal. Strong musical arrangements, sad detectable, but ambiguous lyrics, not ambiguous enough to be universal, but appearing to detail some personal romantic tarmac, but recorded in a sufficiently diffuse style to negate voyeurism. But the voice is a church voice, not a rock voice, she evokes emotion but not necessarily empathy. This is one of the sadder songs on the collection The Joys of Life, and is presumably intended as some kind of counterpoint to the happier themes explored in the other songs presented.

 

(PS)

After a few listens of Karen Beth I can’t quite make up my mind whether I rather like her or find her faintly irritating.  

On the one hand, there’s something about her music which makes me think of one of my folk heroes, Nick Drake: the gentle caressing feel of the nylon strung acoustic guitar; the all-too-subtle double bass softly bobbing around (actually this echoed Astral Weeks for me a bit too); the simple piano chiming which made me think of One of These Things First from Bryter Layter; the wistful lyrics which suggest melancholia and optimism in equal measure… 

And then there’s the marmite voice, which reminded me of a friend from years ago who couldn’t abide Drake because of his singing style – something I could never understand – but I do get a sense of that here. At times the melody seems to get stuck in a recess of Beth’s throat, then it almost sounds like someone attempting a feeble Bee Gees impression. 

There’s nothing particularly remarkable about the song structure, with its simple strummed chords; although the chromatic arpeggios on the piano halfway through add drama and interest. 

I may well find myself changing my mind after further listens and this could turn out to be a bit of a grower; but at the moment I can’t quite get past that voice.