You know what? I think Joseph Arthur has some major issues. Of course, if you've listened to any of the guy's albums, that probably goes without saying. But still, it seemed like this Peter Gabriel protege was on to something a few years ago with the behemoth album Redemption's Son. As stylistically scattered as that album seemed to be at times, there was a deft mixture of light and dark within its 16 songs. Clearly this was a guy who wasn't afraid to deal with his demons, and who often approached them from the perspective of religious faith, without always having a neat answer to tie them all up with. The light and dark - channeled effectively through a voice that was dry and abrasive one minute, shifting into a smooth falsetto the next - made him into the kind of creepy guy that you might actually feel some sympathy for.

These days, my sympathy is dwindling a bit. That doesn't mean that I dislike Mr. Arthur's music - on the contrary, he may have found his punchiest and most consistent album with 2004's Our Shadows Will Remain. But I'm seeing a lot more of the darkness and cynicism creeping into his lyrics these days. While that hasn't removed the strong, colorful craftsmanship from his songs (in fact, a thick layer of rhythm and some of his most immediately catchy melodies ever have quite the opposite effect on Arthur's music), it does make Our Shadows a much more difficult album when you pay close attention to it. As much as I enjoy these songs on an emotional level, lyrically they're kind of a drag.

However, true beauty can often be found in sadness and desperation, and it is with that knowledge that I am able to continue listening to this record. Shadows can't exist without at least some amount of light, however indirectly it may be shining into the room. Sprinkled throughout this album is an occasional dose of hope - be it in a vague allusion to God's sovereignty or a quietly defiant string interlude. Joseph Arthur may be walking a fine line between wrestling with his demons and giving into them, but for the most part, my feeling is that he's using this arsenal of catchy and pensive little songs as a means of confronting that which frightens him the most. Either way, the guy peddles pop songcraft like fine jewelry, which means that there is nary a dull moment on Our Shadows. Some repetitive and pointless moments, perhaps, but no dull ones.

In Ohio
In Ohio, you were born
You will die alone...
Actually, I think the album's most pointless moment might be its first track, which is a forty-five second dirge of keyboards and vocals. Here Joseph croons in the prettier of his two voices about how we're destined to die alone in the very same place we were born, but he'll wait up for us. Not exactly an uplifting opening, eh? It kind of trails off and leads into the first full song in a way that makes me feel like I joined the album halfway in or something.

Can't Exist
Sister, don't be scared
A thousand times or more
I've walked away alive
On my feet again...
Joseph doesn't waste much time bringing out his harsher voice on this album - it figures prominently into the verses of this upbeat number, which apparently is what's being used as a single (if anything from this album has a prayer of making to mainstream radio!) Against a solid bass groove and a comfortable programmed beat, Joseph explains to us that he can't exist if someone he loves decides to leave him. He frames the song in a rather co-dependent attitude, and when he asserts in the second verse that "I can't explain how I lost a thousand dollars on the street again", he starts to sound an awful lot like a junkie who can't get over his addiction but desperately wants the person he loves to stay with him regardless. Backing vocals that seem to all be Arthur's voice in a few different octaves round out the pre-chorus (this is a common, and quite effective trick that adds body to a lot of his songs), and the chorus itself comes slamming in with a rocking intensity not seen on Redemption's Son, as Joseph repeatedly claims, "I will wait for you father, I will wait for you mother", et cetera. It's actually a bit repetitive once you get past the verses, but it's an intriguing way to get re-acquainted with Arthur's style.

Stumble and Pain
All your gifts come out of hell
You brought them back for love
Throw a bucket down into your well
You fill it with your blood...
Something sinister definitely lurks on the surface of this song, a more pensive number with a prominent thumping beat and a somewhat irritated vocal presence from Arthur. I couldn't even venture a guess as to what he's down about here, but his circular, repeating melody certainly provides a solid hook that allows the song to execute a sneak attack on the back of my brain. Chilling lines like "A man you've paid to kill asking you what should be done" and "Shaking hands on a sinking ship" are some of our early clues that something has gone horribly awry in Joseph's world that only he can understand. The song cuts out very suddenly with the last electronic burst that undercuts the final verse, and after an uncomfortably long period of silence (really a few seconds, but they're played to sound like an eternity here), a set of strings, which has been slithering underneath the song the entire time, emerges and takes the song home in a Peter Gabriel-esque flourish. Suddenly what was harsh and throbbing seems lush and calm by comparison, as the strings contend with the thumping beats and gently draw the song to a close.

Devil's Broom
Waking up in the tank, disorderly break-up
And no one here will even tell me what I did
With the guilt and the shame completely vacant
It's hard to stay alive when you don't know how to live...
Now this song is a sweeping epic. (Just kidding; I couldn't resist the pun.) A smart bit of composition causes this song to pick up with the strings that faded the last song out, in the same key, which makes a perfectly natural segue between the two songs. A faster programmed rhythm anchors this song down quite well - it's one of the catchiest on the record. It's also one of the scratchiest vocal moments, with Arthur sounding genuinely p!ssed as he moans about being robbed of everything he's owned, and trying to figure out what he's done to deserve it. He could be talking to a lover who has left him without citing a reason, or he could be a Job-like character (OK, maybe more like one of Job's cynical friends) petitioning the sky for a reason for all of the suffering. Either way, the questions during the chorus aren't easily forgotten: "Where are you? What did I do? Why can't you see? You mean everything to me." Again, Arthur uses layers of background vocals, and even some gentle piano, to bring a sweet balance to an otherwise harsh song, and by the time that song has drawn to a close, the repeated pleas of "You mean everything" sound more heartwarming than angry. Still, it's hard to tell what to make of Arthur's spiritual state when he says, "I just pray that the Lord's gonna come down and take me, sweep me off of this floor with the Devil's broom".

Echo Park
The children runnin' through the greenest field
A lot of love pourin' down
And only you and I know how it feels
When no one else is around...
Hey, it's a shout out to Los Angeles! Well, sort of. Echo Park actually isn't that great of a place, but it beats MacArthur Park, I guess. Anyway, anyone who has listed to Redemption's Son should be able to peg this song as an obvious retread of "Honey and the Moon", which does cause it to lose a few points in my book. But there might be more to it than that - the refreshingly optimistic refrain of "Freedom, freedom, our love won't fade away" seems to be an intentional reference to the other song's vision of "The shores of freedom, where no one lives". The acoustic guitar is a dead ringer for "Honey", but instead of drums and the ambient noises that occupied that trick, we get strings that possess more of a mild-mannered, Sunday afternoon sort of mood. The moment taken to reminisce turns out to be a welcome breather from the heaviness of the rest of the album, even if the song is a bit of a rerun.

Even Tho
We're getting old
We've planted our seeds, and now we wait for them to grow
You said I'll never show you how I really feel
Or which way I'm gonna go...
Don't know what's up with the truncated spelling in the title (if Joseph ever puts out a song called "Plz and Thx", I might want to have a word with him), but ignoring that, this track a lot going for it. The beat sets a comfortable pace and there's a dark-hued guitar line running underneath the chorus that makes it sound an awful lot like a sped-up "Free Falling" - just throw Tom Petty in there (or Tom Cruise if you like), belting out the aforementioned song, and you'll get an interesting counterpoint to the gentle falsetto that Arthur maintains throughout the whole song. It appears that he is singing about a girl who is with him, but not really with him - she's grown cold and he knows that he has too, when he says, "Baby, even though I'm here you know that I'm already gone". Yet he's sure that even if they were to leave one another, they would continue to haunt each other, and this is where the album's title comes in: "Our shadows will remain even after we are gone". He's caught in the middle between trying and no longer having the heart to try, and the song itself is also in limbo, not sure if it wants to be catchy pop or a sensitive-guy ballad with strings and piano.

Puppets
Hearts crack like canes
As children break the spider's legs
Strays out in our yards
Of buried bones and boulevards...
Wow. I had no idea that Joseph Arthur could be so... well... danceable. I mean, is this guy on Prozac or something? I guess not, judging from the lyrics, which are basically about how hw manipulates people and people manipulate him, and therefore, "I wanna try to get away from everybody else" (repeat ad nauseum for catchy-chorus-to-the-nth-degree). But that quick little backbeat, the lively drums, and the falsetto backing vocals are enough to make me wonder if he swapped bands with The Flaming Lips for a day. Hey, that ain't a bad thing!

Wasted
I know you carry a secret star
The one you got from your invisible friend...
This song works its magic on me with its shifty, acidic beat and its minor key, bubble-like synths that are deceptively playful for such a down-and-out song. I don't know why I love this song so much - it's basically about having nowhere to go and "looking for a place to cry", but sometimes you just have to come to that point of feeling like trash being kicked around on the street before you can take stock and get a hold of yourself, I guess. Arthur seems to be connecting with another individual who is down on his-or-her-luck here, and the sharing of sob stories appears to be offering both of them some solace. He asks the person a difficult question that I think ties into the reason for some of his own angst: "If you're not sorry for who you are, why are you sorry for where you've been?"

Failed
When the seasons change, all you can do is cry
Now you're gone, and I don't know why...
Joseph Arthur seems to like to pin most of his new songs on a deep, thumping bass rhythm. That's what he does here with a song that would otherwise be slow, sparse, and likely very boring. That the subtle electronic stuff saves it is a testament to the guy's production skills. There's not much to the lyrics here, and the melody is pretty dang repetitive too, so while that threatens to turn this song into another "Favorite Girl", there's a sort of quiet beauty to it that I can't explain. Maybe it marks the point where Arthur seems to be turning from blame and coming around to realizing exactly what he did wrong to cause the person he loved to leave him? Hard to say, but I can sense my sympathy for him coming back when he softly croons "What's it like where you are? The way you were, I loved you."

I Am
You are not a person
Nor are what you see
Beyond this world you live in
Beyond your memory...
A pounding, trashy beat allows this song to get down and dirty, but there's more to it than just busting a few freaky moves. Actually, this might be the most enigmatic song on the album, because the mantra "Repeat the words I am" (which, appropriately enough, is the chorus) comes across as a bit of a command, as if Arthur is on some sort of a power trip. It's hard to tell if he's speaking from the perspective of God here, or from the perspective of someone who is disgruntled with God (to put this in a religious context, "I Am" is a name which God uses self-referentially in the Bible). The verses give seemingly contradictory clues like "You are not a person", "Your world isn't free", and "To find out what you really are, you must wake up from this long night". Either it's a theological paradox, or it's just a mild case of cynical rambling, and if I could stop shaking my butt to the booty bass long enough to figure it out, I'd gladly let you know. Oh, by the way, don't miss the sweet acapella breakdown in the middle of the song. It's only two, maybe three of Arthur's voices at once, with one providing an eerie "aaaaahhhh..." in the background, but I have the strange feeling that the guy could formulate his own studio choir if he wanted to.

A Smile that Explodes
Waking up at dawn
To find I lost my crown
If I found you there
With flowers in your hair...
Another gently picked acoustic song shows up here, sitting somewhere in the space between "Termite Song" and "Innocent World" from the last disc - i.e. pretty but really haunting. One gets the impression that this is a calm, pensive reflection on a harrowing event, much like the song "Blue Lips". The spacey piano and female backing vocals make it easy for this song to slip away into a surreal, imaginary space where happiness is sadness and vice versa. It's a confusing sensation, but it's kind of cool that Arthur can pull it off so effortlessly. The state of mind he describes here is one of drunkenness, and as he looks back on the memories, he somehow musters up the strength and concentration to write a letter to whoever it is that scorned him: "I write one more letter I won't send, except across the floor." Yeah, whatever that means.

Leave Us Alone
He stands before them as they judge his life
His shadow reaching underneath
He will fight he will reveal his knife
They will question his belief...
The album's last song is a bit plodding, but haunting nonetheless, as Arthur takes a third-person glance at his life. He sings with the awareness that this person, who is apparently contemplating suicide, will face some sort of judgment or accountability for his actions after the fact, and it doesn't sound like the outcome of that trial is a new one. A creepy chorus of voices (once again, probably all Arthur's) tells us defiantly in the chorus, "Go away, leave us alone, we don't know yet who you are", as a synthesized melody swoops around like a ghost, atop yet another bass-heavy beat. It's a bit of an unsettling way to end an album - we're worried that the guy might take his own life and he's basically telling us to p!ss off and mind our own business.

With such a bleak outlook presented at the end, it's easy to see why I come out of this album with concern for the character Arthur depicts in these songs, but not a whole lot of sympathy. It's like he started to face up to the solutions to the problems he brought upon himself somewhere around tracks 9 and 10, and then he retreated and started to wallow. Whether this is an intended story meant to leave us hanging, or just a stream-of-consciousness revealing of his darkest thoughts played out on record because it's a healthier outlet than actually acting them out, I don't know. Either way, it's an intriguing approach to songwriting that seems to go a little deeper than just depression for depression's sake - there are clues to both the problem and the solution here, even though we're not sure what the protagonist decides to embrace at the end.

In any event, presuming that Joseph Arthur isn't as dark as his musical caricatures and he doesn't hang himself before his next album, I look forward to the next entry in his catalog. For those who can stomach a darker album like this and who like solidly crafted singer/songwriter pop songs, this one will probably work well for you. But if you need something a little more varied in terms of the amount of light and darkness, go back and start with Redemption's Son instead.

ALBUM WORTH:
In Ohio $0
Can't Exist $.50
Stumble and Pain $1.50
Devil's Broom $1.50
Echo Park $1
Even Tho $1
Puppets $2
Wasted $2
Failed $1
I Am $2
A Smile that Explodes $1
Leave Us Alone $.50
TOTAL: $14

Website: http://www.josepharthur.com

Recommended: Yes

Great Music to Play While: Cleaning the House