Fall changes warrant new soundtrack

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the fact that last Saturday marked nine years since the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. The music I’ve been listening to this past week has somehow led up to my reflection of this.

We are reminded with events in the present-day of just how important it is to never forget that tragedy. The Florida pastor who maniacally planned to burn the Quran comes to mind, as does the nationwide reconsideration of who should always make the no-fly list at airports, regardless of whether or not they’ve committed any crimes.  

I’ve found it necessary to tune out this hatred with messages of love. For that reason, Antony and the Johnson’s latest EP, “Thank You for Your Love,” is currently resonant with me. For those who don’t know, Antony Hegarty, the lead singer of the dark cabaret, chamber pop collective, has a voice that is other wordly. His message and his lyrics, though often enough to send someone into a wine-fueled tailspin of depression and suicidal thoughts, is ultimately positive. The new EP is a slight departure from what I just mentioned and has a more upbeat quality to it.

The title track of the EP is a fine example of this — mixing horn blasts and a flurry of scatted, heartfelt “thank yous.”

“You Are the Treasure” is another gem, a pile of affections laid on thick: “You are the treasure/you are the dream/ you are my friend/ you are a river of milk to me,” Hegarty sings.

“My Lord My Love” talks about the beauty of having never-failing protection, of always being watched over, with a piano driven melody that sounds similar to a melancholy Christmas.

The EP’s tone evokes images of fireplaces, of robust family dinners, of cobblestone streets being covered in leaves of every color. It reminds me of what happens to all of us when the seasons change — we all change in some way and are inspired to dig deeper.

As fall approaches, layers of clothing will shield our inner selves, readying us for the iciness of winter. Our moods become stale, as they are fixed on extreme highs and lows. Or, at least that’s what happens to me. So, as I get ready for another change in season and temperament, I will realize that I’m not alone.

The growth I experience in this time is a lot like Hegarty’s growth as a person. His earlier songs encapsulated the depths of human suffering — the loneliness, the hopelessness, the romanticism of it all. Nowadays, he seems to be on a track of understanding that in times like these, love, not hate, will be what sets us free. Oh, and saying “thank you.”