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I was about one minute and twelve seconds into the new Scarlett Johansson CD, Anywhere I Lay My Head, when I began to wonder what the hell I’d gotten myself into.
I didn’t know what to expect from Anywhere I Lay My Head. But when the opening instrumental, “Fawn,” changed from a gentle melody into a cacophonous dirge, I started to panic. I’ve heard walls of sound before, but this was more like six walls, all smooshed together, topped with a screechy saxophone. Not knowing the tune, I waited in vain for Scarlett to start singing.
She does finally sing—and not too badly—in “Town With No Cheer.” But it’s another head-scratching dirge, with the vocals buried in the mix. Her voice has an odd, earnest quality, a bit surprising, as if your non-musical little sister suddenly burst into song. It’s loud when it needs to be, a little breathy when things get quiet. It’ll do.
The third song, “Falling Down,” actually sounds something like a song. It’s a stately waltz, punctuated with a plunking banjo. The title track, “Anywhere I Lay My Head,” uses a sprightly bossa nova beat with that now familiar wall (walls?) of sound to make its point.
“Fannin Street” has backing vocals by non other than David Bowie. This is where Scarlett’s voice takes the lead, not buried right away by the wall(s). A bit like a Phil Spector-produced hit of the early sixties.
All but one of the songs on the album are covers of Tom Waits tunes. I hadn’t listened to any of his work since 1978—but, to my surprise, he’s been writing songs more or less continuously since then. The songs covered here are from 1983 and later (thanks, Wikipedia), and I was able to listen to a few of the originals (thanks, Project Playlist) to compare. And hearing Waits’s froggy, whisky-bathed croak made me appreciate Scarlett’s voice more.
One track, “Green Grass,” does approach the vocal style of Waits, with a deep-voiced Scarlett doing her best to interpret the earlier version. “Wish I Was in New Orleans” takes a different tack, with little more than a jangly music box as accompaniment. “I Don’t Wanna Grow Up” has a vaguely disco sound and lyrics that inhabited my brain for days on end.
So what to make of this music, performed by an actress turned singer? It’s a weird outing, to be sure—and, for me, a little hard to listen to. It’s an interesting experiment, perhaps, but it’s not designed for multiple listenings. Will fans of Tom Waits enjoy it? They might. And since Waits has a cult following, who knows…maybe she’ll get one, too.
