Stephen Mejias

Which brings me to my latest recommendation: Xiu Xiu's Women As Lovers takes its alluring title from a novel by Austrian author Elfriede Jelinek. The album, Xiu Xiu's sixth full-length, was released much earlier this year, but I only got around to it this weekend, during a trip to Vintage Vinyl in good ol' Fords, NJ, along rich and wild Route 1.

The album is similarly rich and wild, with gorgeous, captivating sound throughout and a wonderful collection of instruments—everything from the more traditional guitars, bass, drums, and sax to the more unusual harmonium, metal percussion, bottle rockets, conch shells, and signal generators—all balanced against the mysterious and often painfully emotive vocals of songwriter Jamie Stewart.

You want to help Jamie Stewart, but you can't. You want to cover your ears from Jamie Stewart, but you need to hear what else he has to say.

He says things like:

Why should a mother say such things?
Why add tongue to a kiss goodnight?

And he'll top it off with a bunch of la la las, leaving you wondering what it's all about.

Ches Smith plays on it. Most recently, we know him from Marc Ribot's Ceramic Dog. We saw the powerful trio play live at the Knitting Factory, and we were delighted and excited, shouting all sorts of whoops and howls and begging for more. Each member of Ceramic Dog offered something unique and important to the little mix, but Ches Smith was most compelling with his crash cymbal set about eight feet in the air and his blank stares shooting out into the small crowd. Similarly, the percussion work on Women As Lovers is a highlight. Listen to this album on a good hi-fi, and you'll find yourself jumping out of your seat, startled by the presence of the sounds.

I understand that Xiu Xiu has something of a cult following. For that reason, I should say that I've never really listened to the band before this. I've heard tracks here and there, and was always impressed. Having finally given the band a serious listen, and starting with Women As Lovers (a brilliantly packaged double-LP gatefold with artwork featuring a naked woman [I think] bound in rope and sprawled across a white bed), I now want to go out and collect all of their previous albums.

I only wish that Caralee McElroy played a more prominent role behind the microphone; her vocals provide a sweetness and relief against Stewart's heavy, hollow yearning. Nevertheless, it's hard for me to imagine anything that is at once as lovely and troubling as Women As Lovers. It is definitely unsettling, in the best possible way.

If you visit the band's myspace page, try listening to "I Do What I Want When I Want," and I think you'll see what I mean. There is also a website devoted to the album where you will find polaroids, haiku, and other assorted madness.