On her past releases Scout Niblett offset emotionally tortured songs with bursts of whimsy, weirdness and girlish spunk. It was a delicate balance, and for some that untamed quirk was an understandable deal breaker. Hit or miss as those playful diversions were, though, they offered a well-rounded sense of Scout’s personality, while breaking her more doleful moments up into smaller, easier to digest pieces.
On Scout's new Calcination of Scout Niblett the indomitable spirit that brightened her last three records has suddenly been extinguished. Though she pines for them, the album never allows her any of her flights of fancy. “Some may say you’re not a little girl anymore,” she laments, “but becoming a child is what I’m waiting for … let me play.” Those who longed for an entirely serious Scout Niblett record finally have one, and it’s her starkest album yet.
Whether that’s an improvement is a matter of individual taste. Taken as a whole, Calcination can be a bit oppressive, but track for track, it's her most cohesive album since her 2001 debut. Recorded largely solo with an over-tuned electric guitar and a few drums here and there, the songs are less combustible than usual, and while a couple do give way to distorted thrashlike her last three albums, this one was recorded with noise god Steve Albinithere are less explosions than usual.
There are no real hooks to guide the listener through the album, either, just a succession of terse, bluesy riffs that recall Kurt Cobain at his most broken down. Some songs play like sketches, as if Scout were writing them in the studio, while others, particularly "Duke of Anxiety," are so fully formed and tightly crafted they could pass as lost Mississippi Delta traditionals. There's no guarantee which kind of song you'll get. Calcination blindfolds you and asks you to trust Scout Niblett to lead you somewhere interesting. It's a rough journey, but ultimately she lives up to her end of the bargain.
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