Everyone has those albums that they can put on at any time and in any mood, and just enjoy them. I’ve certainly got a few - Hendrix’s Are You Experienced?, Weezer’s Blue album, the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack… the list goes on.

Near the top of that list, for me, is PJ Harvey’s highly acclaimed 2000 offering, Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea. Cinching the Mercury Music Prize for her in 2001, this disc marked the return of the energetic rocker the world first met in 1992 with her well-received debut disc Dry. Generally seen as almost a sort of come-back album, this disc cemented Harvey’s status as one of the most talented women in music. Subsequent discs (Uh-Huh Her in 2004 and White Chalk in 2007) have done nothing to diminish that reputation.

I like this disc for a number of reasons - it’s musically diverse, lyrically engaging and thematically engrossing. What we have are snapshots and vignettes of life-saving love found, heart-wrenching love lost and the inability to find a place in the world (”I walk on concrete, I walk on sand - but I can’t find a safe place to stand.”) Every time I spin this disc it completely removes me from my life, in a sense, and puts me in a place where love and hate and fear and peace are all real and all imminent.

The Tracks

1. “Big Exit” - The opening track is a bit caustic, a bit abrasive - it establishes the tone of the album, the desperation and the passion and the fear and the chaos.
   

   Baby, baby, ain’t it true? I’m immortal when I’m with you. But I want a pistol in my hand - I want to go to a different land.

   There’s something off about the character, she’s slightly unhinged and one gets the sense that she’s best not left alone for too long.

2. “Good Fortune” - The second track is perhaps my favorite on the disc, and I’m a big fan of the video - it’s completely low-key but lovely.
   

   And I feel like
   Some bird of paradise
   My bad fortune slipping away
   And I feel the
   Innocence of a child
   Everybody’s got something good to say

   It’s this gorgeous life-affirming song about the kind of love that everyone should experience in their lives.

3. “A Place Called Home” - This one is kind of haunting; it’s about two people who together try to forge their place in the world. There’s a lot of dark imagery - desolation, war, and loneliness. But persisting throughout is this thread of hope - one day, we’ll find that place.
   

   And I’m right on time
   And the birds keep singing
   And you’re right on line
   And the bells keep ringing
   And the battle is won
   And the planes keep winging
   And I’m right on time
   And the girl keeps singing

   I guess what I like about it isn’t the narrative anymore - it’s maybe here that the disc stops being mere love songs and becomes something transcendent. She’s not just singing about seeing a peaceful future in her lover’s eyes - she’s singing about finding refuge from a chaotic, painful world. These songs are actually about the human experienced, albeit through a mirror of amorous affection - they’re about what it means to be an individual on this planet, trapped between parking lots and ocean waves and not being able to find meaning or sense in any of it.

4. “One Line” - Another of my favorites from this disc, again juxtaposing warfare with salvation through love. It’s about constructing an alternate topography, a geography of meaning and substance -
   

   I’m watching from the wall
   As in the streets we fight
   This world all gone to war
   All I need is you tonightAnd I draw a line
   To your heart today
   To your heart from mine
   A line to keep us safe

   I find the lyrics interesting, but what really gets me here is the simple but effective musical structure. It’s got this sort of pensive, vulnerable thing going on but when the chorus kicks in you get a more secure percussive structure; it almost feels like the act of drawing strength from someone else. Again, life-affirming and gorgeous - and that’s Thom Yorke doing backup harmonies. More from him later in the disc!

5. “Beautiful Feeling” - Next we have the quiet, contemplative “Beautiful Feeling.” Thom Yorke is here again, unmistakable in the background. This is a slow, sombre song - lyrically, it’s about (surprise, surprise) being in love - she’s thinking about him, an ocean away, and just losing herself in her thoughts.
   

   And when I watch you move
   And I can’t think straight
   And I am silenced
   And I can’t think straightAnd it’s the best thing
   It’s the best thing
   The best thing
   Such a beautiful feeling

   It’s a dark track, slower than it feels like it should be and not exactly “pretty” - it reminds me of falling asleep thinking about someone. Somehow, though, that tone lends it gravity - this could be the flipside of the character in the opening track, during a slightly less manic mood. She’s serious here.

6. “The Whores Hustle and the Hustlers Whore” - Now we get the change of pace, the mixup - we don’t get the character that’s happy, secure, in love. Instead, we get Every(wo)man - alone, cynical, unable and afraid to believe in anyone or anything.
   

   Speak to me of heroin and speed
   Of genocide and suicide, of syphilis and greed
   Speak to me the language of love
   The language of violence, the language of the heart
   This isn’t the first time I’ve asked for money or love
   Heaven and earth don’t ever mean enough
   Speak to me of heroin and speed
   Just give me something I can believe

   Don’t talk to me about finding a place called home, that’s idealistic rubbish - if you’re gonna talk to me, tell me about all the terrible things in this life because there’s at least something I know to be true. It’s this dichotomy, the difference between “in love” and “alone,” the drives this album - and without this track here I don’t know that that point would necessarily be overt enough. It’s a look at the chaotic hell that Harvey is trying to take us away from.

7. “The Mess We’re In” - Here we have Thom Yorke stepping into a more prominent role and taking over the vocal reins for a track. It’s this chance encounter between two hopeless people -
   

   Night and day
   I dream of
   Making-love
   To you now baby
   Love-making
   On-screen
   Impossible dream
   And I have seen
   The sunrise
   Over the river
   The freeway
   Reminding
   Of this mess we’re in and
   The city sun sets over me

   We get yet another iteration of the “city vs nature” dynamic, all culminating in the idea of a completely flawed world. At the end of the track they thank each other, say they will never meet again and move on. It’s about gasping for air, about just barely meeting that bare minimum of human compassion required to live another day. Musically it’s driving, it sounds like something off of Yorke’s solo album but without the digital sounds - it’s mysterious, compelling and haunting but ultimately lonely.

8. “You Said Something” (sorry about the video - it’s some lousy garage cover band, it’s all they got) - Again, a context-free encounter between two people.
   

   On a rooftop in Brooklyn
   One in the morning
   Watching the lights flash
   In Manhattan
   I see five bridges
   The empire state building
   And you said something
   That I’ve never forgotten

   It’s this meditation on sharing something - the important thing isn’t what he said, it’s not the scenery they took in together and it’s not the “how did we get here?” backstory leading up to their evening together. Rather it’s the act of being with someone - that’s what’s so important. It’s one of the more lovely, life-affirming songs on the disc, so I’m sorry there’s no YouTube video for it - I guess you’ll just have to buy the album.

9. “Kamikaze” - It happens on every album, even my favorites - here’s a song I don’t really care for. I find it loud, abrasive and frankly jarring given the rest of the album. One day I’m sure I’ll wake up and “get it” but for now I grit my teeth when it comes up. Here are some lyrics:
   

   How could that happen?
   How could that happen again?
   Where the fuck was I looking
   When all his horses came in?
   And he built a whole army
   Of kamikaze

   10,000 willing
   Pilots flying
   Interfacing
   Space and beyond
   Built an army
   To come and find me

   So, what’s up with that? Did she get knocked up, is that the idea? Or is it more a metaphor for hating someone, the opposite of the love that defines this album? I don’t know and I almost don’t care - I really hate this song. …

10. “This is Love” - Then, thankfully, we get this one. The opening lines sum it up pretty well:
    

    I can’t believe that life’s so complex
    When I just want to sit here and watch you undress

    It’s loud, it’s raucous, and it’s happy. It’s not life-affirming or soul-shattering or anything like that, not like the earlier tracks on the disc - this is a more mature passion, the love of a couple wise in the ways of the world and who understand the nuance and complexity of modern living. That’s all well and good and it has its place, but this song is about getting laid and being in love and just reveling in it. It’s wonderful. Great video, too!

11. “Horses in my Dreams” - Now the album winds down. I’m not sure what’s going on with this track - it’s got a lilting sound to it, almost folksy, kinda slow. The lyrics are poetry, but I’m only saying that because I don’t understand them so they must be profound:
    

    Horses in my dreams
    Like waves, like the sea
    On the tracks of a train
    Set myself free again

    I have pulled myself clear

    I dunno. An old friend of mine jokes that every girl has a “horse” phase that she goes through, and that it’s nothing more than the subconscious awakening sexually. Straddling a big animal, right, I get it. So is that what’s going on here? The song’s a metaphor for sexual liberation? Makes as much sense as anything else, I suppose. Anyway, it’s pretty - the piano and high pitched voice make it oddly prescient of White Chalk, the album she put out this year.

12. “We Float” - And here it is, the breakup song. After a whole album about the haves and have-nots of love, here finally is the “had.” It’s a really powerful tune, I think - the music is perfect, filled with this pregnant tension that culminates in a liberating chorus, while the lyrics are about moving on.
    

    This is kind of about you
    This is kind of about me
    We just kind of lost our way
    But we were looking to be freeBut one day we’ll float
    Take life as it comes

    How about that? It manages to take all the songs on this album, which are arranged almost chronologically by maturity level, and ties them all together into a single package. The salvation of “One Line,” the rage of “The Whores Hustle and the Hustlers Whore”, the mature libido of “This is Love”, all of it is sublated into this contemplative complex meditation.

Conclusions

I’m not sure how to conclude this. This album is beautiful to me, I feel like every song (yes, even “Kamikaze”) has something insightful to say to me about what it means to be a human being interacting with other human beings. It makes me feel in love and it makes me feel alone - it makes me angry, and it sates me.

What is the final “message” of the disc? I’m not sure I want to speculate, but I’ll give it a go: We need other people, but in the end we’re only ourselves. It’s sort of the tragedy and the comedy of human existence, right?

At any rate, I’ve certainly enjoyed listening through this to bring it to you. It’s made me think and it’s made me feel, and if it sounds like something you’d enjoy then I really recommend you pick it up.

Having listened to the songs I’ve linked, how do you feel about it? Had you heard it before? Are you a fan? What’s she getting at with that Horses song? As always, thanks for reading and I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

© 2008 Mykola Bilokonsky for Listen In. Some rights reserved. Cross-posted here on Newsvine.

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