Equal parts Wham-City experimental freak-out and rural mountain-music, Lizz King’s new album is a wonderfully weird, schizophrenic journey, careening in an instant from deep, noise-driven grooves to stunningly simple tunes that have their heart in Appalachia. This oddly divergent mix, and King’s kitchen-sink approach to her music in which she incorporates, at times, every instrument she has ever heard (including guitar, melodica, banjos, a glockenspiel, and a ukulele), give All Songs Go To Heaven a widely intriguing personality.
Whereas fellow Charm City psychedelic-folkies Animal Collective approach their music with calculated precision, King seems to simply follow the ever-turbulent, undulating waves of her soul, riding them to wherever they may take her. Never tying herself down to one simple musical thought, she instead takes on adventurous exploration, moving from the oddly danceable, breathy whisper of “Booty Queen,” through the simple-strummed, hushed beauty of “Tongue Tied,” the whimsical calliope spin of “Proletariat Delinquent,” and the freak-folk explosion of “Mr. Fella.” And it is in these contrasts that the genius of King is exposed. The effortless incorporation of her varied musical interests help King create an album that is at the edge of the freak-folk movement, one that is as forward-looking with its occasional reliance on heavy-electronic beats, as it is recalling a simpler time with its restrained use of a comfortable, familiar stringed sound.
All Songs Go To Heaven is the sound of worlds colliding. And this is a glorious sound, full of banjos and beats, heartbreaking melodies and odd noises, softly sung words and deeply stinging rhythms. It is a highly intoxicating musical trip, and one on which we are lucky enough to have King as our guide.
All Songs Go To Heaven is out now on Ehse Records.