MUSIC REVIEW: 50 Words for Snow by Kate Bush

December 15, 2011

Kate Bush has spun her musical charms for five decades. Her latest release, 50 Words For Snow recalls earlier albums, also hums with the mature intensity of 2005’s Aerial. What distinguishes this fantastic collection from her first records and her last full original release is the blend of piano-heavy jazz melodies with a voice layered and searching. And for me, a new favorite that evokes Bush at her most haunting, edgy, and ethereal.

But let’s start at the beginning, which takes us to not to the first track, ‘Snowflake’, but to May of this year, and the release of Director’s Cut. Eleven tunes from The Red Shoes and The Sensual World were reworked, Bush’s first record in six years, a luscious retelling that found her ranges lowered, three songs completely redone. Those with new vocals offered a deeper resonance, also a notice to fans.

With a second album released six months later, I listen to 50 Words For Snow with appreciation. No longer does Bush sound like a dervish, but I’m relieved. Time leaves no one untouched, and with these altered tones, Bush sounds more authentic, even when singing of sleeping with a snowman. ‘Misty’ purports that unreal occurrence, but set against a simple piano and slight percussion (and running thirteen minutes), Bush unwinds another wild tale that never seems implausible, only heartrending. This song is the third track, also the core of the record, which begins with the piano-driven ‘Snowflake’, Bush’s deeper tones balanced by the choirboy pitch of her son Albert McIntosh as the snowflake.

With seven tracks, the sixty-five minute running time is split into two measures, ‘Snowflake’, ‘Lake Tahoe’ and ‘Misty’ built around Bush’s piano, reminiscent of The Kick Inside and Lionheart. ‘Lake Tahoe’ employs choral singers Stefan Roberts and Michael Wood while Bush handles the lower ranges. Bush sings alone in ‘Misty’, but she’s not solitary; a snowman lies beside her, scattering dead leaves and stolen grasses along the pillow. Thirteen minutes of such musings might seem overblown, and maybe by any other artist, it would be. Bush handles the subject with evocative grace, also winsome youth, the ease of building a snowman then finding that figure lying close, cold but passionate. ‘Misty’ is a tour-de-force, the finest track on the album, replacing my previous favorite tune, ‘Night of the Swallow’.

Kate Bush may no longer possess those ranges, but she makes up for any lack of voice with poignant melodies and lyrics, on display in ‘Misty’, ‘Lake Tahoe’ and the final track, ‘Among Angels’. The duet with Elton John, ‘Snowed In At Wheeler Street’ rouses her, not as if to best Elton, but to remind she has the power, two old lovers trading memories. Here she uses her newfound depth to match Elton’s own matured vocals, her piano framing their back and forth recollections.

Bush uses her gift in eloquent, restrained moments, but the fiery spark remains, as if it’s 1978 and she’s a teenage prodigy. Four albums emerged in that many years, 1982’s The Dreaming a cacophony of Bush’s creative endeavors, how the second half of 50 Words For Snow begins, ‘Wild Man’ tracking the yeti, also a quiet harkening to ‘The Dreaming’, with a guest vocal appearance by Andy Fairweather Low. Their intensity is a striking contrast to the album’s more reticent ambiance.

In the title track, Bush goads Stephen Fry into finding one more word for snow. Bush is a bystander here, more of a chant as she did on ‘Pi’ from Aerial. But closing the album, ‘Among Angels’ is Bush and her piano, a quiet twosome much like ‘The Kick Inside’ or ‘Oh England My Lionheart’. Kate Bush might not aim for those upper reaches, but now it suits her better, a voice that has reached the UK charts in each of the last five decades. A voice that carries those years with grace and depth amid jazz-laden melodies, richness and time that will surely invite a new generation of listeners, especially if subsequent albums charm the landscape. Recent releases have been far and few, but in 2011 she has dived back into the realm, this album and Director’s Cut on her own label, Fish People, through her longtime association with EMI.

After the reworked tunes on Director’s Cut, I am completely thrilled with 50 Words For Snow, luxurious and extended, mysterious and child-like. Bush paints with her own tools, on her own terms, warm brushes weaved over snowy landscapes, her piano and voice hypnotic and enticing. Her changed, throaty tones are endearing, mixed with a variety of accompaniments. If jazz-tinged piano appeals, if strange worlds tempt, if a need for authentic wintry dreams calls, 50 Words For Snow answers all those requests. And one that as a longtime fan I was afraid to ask; could Kate Bush return to rescue from banal and trite tunes?

No other reply is necessary. Oh yes she can.

by Anna Scott Graham