Kristin Hersh, “Wyatt at the Coyote Palace” (Cash Music)

reviews-kristinhershKristin Hersh makes albums you have to think about, which can be the commercial kiss of death (and in her case, has been for 30 years and counting). Which doesn’t mean her work lacks an emotional kick, especially on this new release—a double studio CD packed inside a hardcover book. At first glimpse, the emotional tone is chilly and haunting, but it draws you in the more you listen, and its warmth and beauty get more obvious each time.

Most of these songs were released online over the past three years, a stretch that saw the end of a marriage and the death of a close friend (fellow songwriter Vic Chesnutt). The songs here don’t refer specifically to either (she already dealt with both in a book last year, Don’t Suck, Don’t Die). But from the opening “Bright”—where a pretty acoustic guitar intro gets swallowed by a wave of sighing voices and nasty distorted guitars—there’s a sense of storminess throughout, whether the music is calm (“Sun Blown” harks back to Big Star’s Third) or manic (“Green Screen,” a garage rocker with a wild, skittering guitar solo). The book collects lyrics, photos and the song comments that were posted online—often with the kind of self-deprecating wit that’s familiar from her live shows.

As a lyricist Hersh can drop a great one-liner (“You’re my nightmare in shining armor”), but she prefers to work with moods and images: “Elysian Fields” and “Between Piety & Desire,” the first songs she’s written about her New Orleans neighborhood, both capture the unearthly feel of the place. As a singer she’s as good with disarming whispers as she is with banshee wails, and playing every instrument herself, she proves a remarkably flexible rock band. The hooks and catchy bits don’t announce themselves, but are better for it. Good to know that someone still makes albums to get lost in.