With
Performances,
Land of Talk's
Elizabeth Powell delivers a powerful reminder that not all cathartic music is loud. Instead of turning up the volume, they lean into the openness that has defined their songwriting since
Life After Youth to explore their reality as a non-binary artist. While making the album,
Powell questioned the expectations placed upon them as a musician and a person -- in other words, the performances of their past. Part of undoing the placating behavior programmed into
Powell since their traumatic childhood was the realization that no matter what kind of music they made, it would still be the work of
Land of Talk.
Performances makes it clear how liberated
Powell feels by this epiphany as they challenge norms big and small. On "Your Beautiful Self," which borrows some of
Fleetwood Mac's silky introspection, their voice dips into its lowest register; rather than using the guitar as the foundation for
Land of Talk's songs as usual,
Powell moves to keyboards that convey the record's moods just as artfully as six strings could. "Intro"'s delicate twinkles foreshadow
Powell's vulnerability later on the album, while the eerie synth strings that underpin "Semi-Precious" echo the feeling that "something ain't right." On the highlight "Sitcom," the contrast between bubbly electric piano worthy of an '80s TV show theme and
Powell's regrets cuts deep.
Land of Talk treats
Performances' clearing out of thoughts and relationships that no longer work with tenderness and empathy as well as honesty. When
Powell sings "So I don't like my family" on "Marry It," it's just part of the song's gentle ebb and flow; when they declare "I want a love I don't recognize," it acknowledges what they've been through and the hope of breaking those patterns.
Land of Talk balances these confessions with experimental touches that keep the record's softness interesting, such as the whistling keyboards and tight, hissy rhythms of "Fluorescent Blood." Fittingly for an album that looks at the past from a new perspective, many of
Performances' songs take time to fully reveal themselves. Nowhere is this more true than on "Pwintiques," which begins with a piano melody
Powell wrote years before they formed
Land of Talk and blossoms into a seven-minute post-rock excursion that captures the album's state of reflection and transformation.
Performances gives the comforting yet challenging impulses within
Land of Talk's music equal time, and they both resonate with the confidence of
Powell's unshakeable self-knowledge. ~ Heather Phares