Throwing Muses: The Real Ramona
Review by: Simon Reynolds
Kristin Hersh's fractured lyrics and hemorrhaging voice seemed to be a musical equivalent, or possibly an alternative, to these selfdestructive practices. But the ravaged grace of her "falling apart" never seemed like mere wallowing in misery, but rather was the first step toward rebuilding herself. Boys could identify too, since Hersh's songs were as much about adolescence as specifically female trauma.
As with a lot of first statements (e.g., the Smiths), the debut's cathartic purity of expression has subsequently proved something Throwing Muses have been unable to live down or live up to. They've made brilliant records (_House Tornado_, the _Chains Changed_ EP) and dull ones (_Hunkpapa_) but nothing as unsettling and unleashed as _Throwing Muses_. Perhaps it comes down to the contradictions inherent in making your living "on the edge." But if _The Real Ramona_ is a return to form, this surely has everything to do with the fact that last year was one of the worst years in Kristin Hersh's life, packed with traumas every bit as agonizing as those that inflamed the debut album, only of a more adult nature: the breakup with her longtime lover and a bitter legal battle for custody of their son, Dylan, followed by further legal turmoil with the Muses' former manager.
At their peaks, Throwing Muses have been like an icy inferno. _The Real Ramona_ sounds like the aftermath of selfimmolation. Kristin's voice is burntout and ashen. The schizoid song structures and jarring tempo changes of old have been straightened out even further; David Narcizo's drumming, once the panic pulse of their music, has been subordinated to the role of dutiful timekeeper. But although the Muses have never sounded prettier, the shiny surfaces are scarred by deep furrows of corrosive pain. Only the outright power pop of "Not Too Soon" sounds remotely jaunty.
The opening "Counting Backwards" could pass for funk, but Hersh's vocal makes it clear this is the dance of a mind in disarray. These songs are examples of Throwing Muses' haunting conventional forms, playing (at) pop more successfully than on the confused _Hunkpapa_. As for the turbulent folkpunk that has hitherto been the Muses' forte, "Golden Thing" features some unearthly yodels and deranged vocal pirouettes, while "Hook in Her Head" is as baleful and forbidding, ragged and raucous, as the group have been in years. As good as these returns to tempestuous form are, the closing "Two Step" is better still. Like the lovely but tragically brief track, "Dylan," that closes the first side, "Two Step" is a halcyon haze of ghostly harmonies and gilded guitar chords that evokes a mood of postcatastrophic languor.
Like _Hunkpapa_, _The Real Ramona_ is probably another "transitional" album for the Muses. The difference is that, unlike its predecessor, it leaves me impatient to find out where that transition will take them.
Back to Interviews