by Zak Mercado (@ciaoguaglione)
The mind is like a needle. The mind is like a cloth. The mind plays tricks and is unwieldy when it comes to matters of the heart. Jana Horn’s new album is not necessarily an epistemological or psychological enquiry; rather, it contains an empirical poetic account of the mind observing reality and surreality.
Musically, The Window is the Dream, is a tightly woven textile, with minute intricacies. Vibraphone, bass, guitars, and synthesizers all cooperate or battle with Horn’s voice to illuminate her images via purposeful poetry. Horn’s lovely vocal affectations are a mixture between Greta Kline (of Frankie Cosmos) and Nick Drake. The phrasing and delivery of the lyrics is laconic; her poetry is delivered as such. It is magical, uncompromising, and sui generis, demanding attention. The lead guitar lines are especially given space. Notably, on “The Dream,” beautiful, precise noodling fills in deliberate spaces. Such supportive musical accompaniment emphasizes the surreal wandering mind motif.
Examining this work as merely musical would be an unfortunate myopic event. The Window is the Dream is a literary work worth close reading. The lyrical content is poetic and comes off strongly, yet humbly, erudite. A facile approach to the turns of phrases would mistake them for mere frivolities. Horn, however, is purposeful in every lyric. In “Old Friend,” différance demonstrates diverse meanings of “needle,” shifting between a tool for creating something and tool to play back music. Explicating further, the needle is analogized to memory, a function of the mind.
On “Love in Return,” the narrator observes, “Had an idea when I came to / Lose the thing I love the most / And the thought of what it was / And the thought before that.” The mind’s labyrinthine workings, initiate immediately, when “coming to,” whether at day’s break or in epiphanies. The inquiry of mind continues in exploring religious mythos in “Song for Eve,” noting “distinction is in the mind.” In taking responsibility for sin, the weight of the world rests solely upon the ability to distinguish between moralities. The mind, perhaps, is ultimately weak in matters of morality, whether self-imposed or given by deity.
“Energy Go,” sonically like Nick Drake, continues the rumination on the mind: “And I can’t seem to get out of my head for long enough to think for myself…” The recurring theme is the mind lacking serious control. Another delightful moment is a steady bass and drums à la Stereolab on “In Between.” In sum, the musical modes are diverse (cf. Horn’s feature on Bill Baird’s “Always Leaving Keys”).
Despite being concise and tight, the combination of music and lyrics sometimes threatens to explode. On “Old Friend,” there’s a menacing feeling that nearly carries the listener to a different level, but quickly retreats as the song ends. This tightness is a logical next step, following from Horn’s previous record. Just as meditative, Optimism feels slightly looser. On this record, the tightly wound emotion and concise poetry feel more surreal.
The album is bookended by two songs that lend to understanding the main themes. Matters of the heart may really be all in the head. On the opening track, the narrator speaks: “Everything is in the past when you've made up your mind / Going to the door only to have it open from the inside.” The heart is supposed to be a secure place. However, when the mind enters in, for example, to end a relationship, as on “Leaving Him,” it has surreally given itself permission to override the heart, opening doors in ways thought incredible (“from the inside”).
Horn tastefully allows the album to unravel itself (similar to the ending of Optimism), mostly letting go of the musings on the mind. It concludes with profoundly honest thoughts about letting go in romantic relationships. The narrator comes to the grievous realization that what was once desired becomes, in the mind, somehow, something unwanted. Perhaps “love,” the narrator wonders, never really existed between the two people, and “…all I want is to go back to the way it was.”
The mind can attempt to take feelings as realistic circumstances. Despite its willingness to create those circumstances, it cannot bring something “back to the way it was,” perhaps because, that never was reality.