I’m on the losing end of musical history. When bands
produce breakout recordings, I’m usually indifferent to these
monumental moments of music history, instead aligning myself with
another—universally less popular—album. I proudly chose
Tusk over Rumours, Candy Apple Grey over Zen
Arcade, Being There over Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, The
Bends over Kid A… this list goes on forever. And just as
the hype surrounding Bat for Lashes’ Two Suns reached a
deafening pitch of album-of-the-year hysterics, it was clear to me that
I preferred 2007’s Fur and Gold.
That’s not to say that Two Suns is a lesser recording, or
even remotely flawed—it’s not. When the dust settles, there is
little doubt that it will be seen as the finest moment from the
enigmatic British woman behind the Bat for Lashes moniker, Natasha
Khan. But it was 2007’s Fur and Gold that still resonates the
strongest; this debut offering was an artistic shot across the bow, a
flat-out stunning introduction that propelled Khan to the rarified
standing of a respected, creatively minded pop frontwoman (comparisons
to Björk or Kate Bush are more than fitting).
While Fur and Gold was sleepy eyed and dreamlike, Two
Suns is a beautiful battle of personality that spills out in the
album’s poetic lyrics. Khan’s spiritual self—a constant fixture
in the Bat for Lashes catalog—has spawned a foil: a blonde
temptress by the name of Pearl. While Khan is reserved, if
otherworldly, Pearl is her deliberately schizophrenic other half, an
uninhibited persona whose “blonde curls slice through your heart.”
Pearl’s bold nature might conflict with the gentle nature of Khan,
whose lone act of aggression comes via a generous percussion staff (the
origin of which seems closer to a fortunate roll of a 12-sided
D&D die than, say, a trip to Guitar Center) that, when
slammed into the stage, produces a loud boom. When not armed—with
a backing band or alternate persona—Khan exudes a soft
vulnerability that gently permeates the music.
For an artist whose material seems most at home amid the rolling
green shires of Middle Earth, it’s surprising to hear “Daniel,” the
stellar lead single off Two Suns. Awash in ’80s synth and bubbly
pop—if you want to continue the Kate Bush comparisons, this is
Khan’s “Running up That Hill”—the song is a curious ode to the
fictional Daniel LaRusso (the swept leg, unlikely champion of the All
Valley Karate Tournament in Karate Kid), a suspicion hammered
home by promotional photos of Khan with illustrated scenes from the
movie painted on her exposed back. The single’s video continues the
theme, incorporating the fashion of Ali Mills/Elisabeth Shue
(sleeveless red hoodie, smeared mascara) from the movie’s climactic
scene.
While it seems that Two Suns will (rightfully) be regarded as
a significant moment of pop excellence, and Fur and Gold seen as
little more than Khan’s auspicious debut, the trajectory of these two
recordings traces a similar path. Alongside Khan’s vibrant lyrical
world, both recordings feature the soft, yet never overbearing,
influence of various male collaborators. Lift to Experience’s
tragically overlooked frontman Josh T. Pearson emerged from the abyss
to make his mark on Fur and Gold, while Two Suns adds
contributions from pop-psych outfit Yeasayer and vocals from reclusive
rock legend Scott Walker. Bat for Lashes will always be the work of one
woman—anything else just wouldn’t be right—but these guest
performers illustrate the high level of company Khan likes to keep. No
matter which side of history you fall on, it’s evident that the wake of
Bat for Lashes will be felt for quite some time.