by Christopher J. Lee
Of the many guises that Yo La Tengo have acquired over the course of their four-decade-plus career—folk rock band, noise experimentalists, tasteful cover band, indie-jazz fusion aficionados, and committed Hannukah celebrants—their occasional role as soundtrack composers has been a natural assignment. Given their penchant for long, emotionally rich instrumental jams, it has also been a surprisingly infrequent one. Seventeen years ago, they released the hour-long compilation They Shoot, We Score, which put together their work for the films Game 6 (2005), Junebug (2005), Shortbus (2006), and Old Joy (2006). A few years prior, they issued The Sounds of the Sounds of Science (2002), a 78-minute-long score for a series of surreal underwater films by the French director Jean Painlevé, which were shot decades earlier and focused on the exotic habits of marine life. They also did a score for Adventureland (2009), which has not received wide release. Yet, after these recordings, beyond occasional licensing, the soundtrack heart monitor goes flat.
Old Joy (Official Soundtrack), which came out in February, is therefore somewhat of a perplexing surprise. Unrelated to any anniversary or revival of Kelly Reichardt’s second film, the brevity of this recording with six tracks at 26 minutes approximates something like a message in a bottle finding its way to shore. Adding further ambiguity, it’s been listed as both an LP and an EP. Too insubstantial to be a cash grab and only marginally different from the tracks on They Shoot, We Score, the ultimate significance of this archival release rests in its demonstration of how easily Ira Kaplan, Georgia Hubley, and James McNew can build emotional narratives with only their instruments to go by. It’s a small keepsake whose value exceeds immediate impressions.
Old Joy (Official Soundtrack) also invites a return to Reichardt’s film, which remains one her best. Taking place in Portland, Oregon, and the surrounding area, Old Joy is notable for involving Will Oldham (Bonnie “Prince” Billy) in one of the two main roles as the character Kurt, along with Daniel London as his friend Mark. Based on a short story by Jon Raymond, Mark and Kurt embark on an overnight camping trip involving a hidden hot spring, though they get lost due to Kurt’s haphazard knowledge and unpredictable behavior. Their friendship confronts a fork in the road between the conformism of settling down, which Mark somewhat reluctantly chooses, versus continuing a free-spirited vagabond lifestyle, which Kurt embodies. The hot spring provides a source of reprieve and an element of healing, though this escape proves temporary. Old Joy ends with Mark returning to his suburban life in Portland and Kurt wandering off into the night to a more precarious future.
Old Joy is a film played in a minor key, though it is not entirely downbeat. Yo La Tengo bring a light, painterly touch that adds emotional texture to the atmosphere conjured by Reichardt, Oldham, and London. Indeed, given the tension that builds between the leads and their frequent inability as men to express themselves with candor and vulnerability, the music provides an indispensable supplement and emotional ballast as the movie progresses.
There are moments when Kaplan’s guitar has never sounded so expressive; there is seemingly no daylight between his guitar tones and the bittersweet feelings of loneliness and togetherness that gradually surface and crisscross during Mark and Kurt’s road trip. Smokey Hormel accompanies Kaplan on guitar, providing a second melody and voice. Together, the two guitarists mimic the familiar, if at times uneasy, relationship between Mark and Kurt. Their mutual guitarwork is friendly and playful on “Leaving Home,” moody and introspective on “Getting Lost,” and tentatively redemptive on “Driving Home.” Hubley and McNew provide glimmers of heartbeat and the fluster of the wider world when called upon.
Like the film, Old Joy (Official Soundtrack) is a stripped down, minimalist affair. Importantly, it accomplishes what any vital soundtrack should: to move the narrative along in a way that images alone cannot do. Film scores should be an easy lift for Yo La Tengo for the reasons previously stated. Still, there is an unusual power to listening to this music without Reichardt’s visual narrative. Her films have always had a political angle, frequently dealing with socially marginalized people and how they manage conditions of neglect. Though Kurt and Mark contrast one another, the trick she pulls off in Old Joy is creating two complex characters who both warrant sympathy.
Yo La Tengo perform a similar double move. As Kurt explains at one point while discussing a dream he had, sorrow is just “worn out joy”—that is, there is a reassuring element to feelings of change and loss in that they still retain what was once there before. Old Joy (Official Soundtrack) documents this emotional ground, exploring the continuities between present ennui and old joy. Neither entirely sanguine nor completely grief-stricken, this music is unavoidably tied to Reichardt’s film but also transcends it.