Judging an artist based on another's artistic merit is an unfair and pretty bogus way of looking at music, but whenever I listen to Iron & Wine (and/or almost any other artist that could be considered part of this whole "neo-folk" mini-movement), I honestly can't help but think: "This is pretty good, but it's no Will Oldham." It's difficult to judge music in this genre objectively, because, for better or worse, a lot of its artists stick to a very similar sound, allowing the masters to easily eclipse the less-than-spectacular. In other words: Oldham is to indie folk as My Bloody Valentine is to shoegazing. Even if Woman King is pretty much doomed to be forgotten, especially in a year where Oldham and Bright Eyes (of all groups) both released fantastic, fresh takes on the genre, its songs offer plenty of enjoyment for those unopposed to large beards and neo-hippies.
With clicking, clacking percussion, deliberate acoustic strums, and just-above-whispering vocals, the title track opens the six-song effort on a note remarkably akin to Modest Mouse's "Jesus Christ was an Only Child." Interestingly enough, "Woman King" is the longest and least engaging track on the EP of its name. The song seems bored with itself, an unfortunately easy feeling to evoke in any form of folk music, and just kind of hovers about in the listener's space, not really getting anywhere or doing anything memorable. Fortunately, it's followed by what could be the EP's centerpiece and true reason for existence: the catchy, amazing "Jezebel." Melodies on various acoustic instruments layer upon one another until a marvelous web is woven, just soft enough to harbor Sam Beam's pensive, fragile croon. The delicate chorus is Woman King's secret weapon; one listen and you'll be hooked. In fact, it just wormed its way into my head as I type this. I shit you not. I haven't even listened to the record in a couple of days. Curse you and your boundless power, "Jezebel."
"Gray Stables'" perfect harmonies, the rollicking "Freedom Hangs like Heaven," and the plaintive, subtle "My Lady's House" are all worth repeated listens as well. "Evening on the Ground (Lilith's Song)" tacks a wonderful WTF factor onto the EP's end. Two thirds of the way through the song, a distorted electric guitar (!) makes an entrance, but not before the lyrics, "we were born to fuck each other/ one way or another." Hearing Beam's creepy, hushed delivery of the word "fuck" still manages to send chills down my spine, even after myriad listens to Woman King in its entirety. To date, "Evening on the Ground" is Beam's most gloriously idiosyncratic moment.
Woman King is a perfect, melodic, and entirely edgeless listen. I doubt many (if any) records more instantly pleasing than this will be released in '05. If you don't mind your music having no grit whatsoever, this EP was tailored for you. Lightning Bolt, however, this is not.
