Metaphorically Yours

Although Ed Harcourt’s international major label full-length in 2001 didn’t have a wide audience, those who did hear Here Be Monsters were quick to praise this youthful British singer-songwriter with a natural talent for lush ambient atmospheres, comparing him to folks like Tom Waits, Randy Newman and Harry Nilsson. If putting him among such lofty company seems premature, “Bittersweetheart,” and “The Birds Will Sing for Us”—two standout tracks on Harcourt’s new album From Every Sphere—might convince you otherwise. Elegant pop melodies give each song a timeless quality; fluid pianos and textured instrumentation weave a gentle tapestry. The beguilingly sweet vocals have more punch than you'd expect, increasing their power with each successive listen.

And that’s the way the record’s intended to be heard. Meeting Harcourt in his hotel lobby for coffee and Bloody Marys, the 25-year-old’s hair persistently hangs in his eyes. When I tell him that I’d managed to listen to Sphere a few times since it’s arrival in the mail two evenings earlier, he quite seriously tells me, “Oh, that’s not enough. You have to live with it, it gets better.”

Take this self-descriptive line from “Jetsetter”—perhaps a comment on art and stardom and the state of modern music-making: “Making an appearance at the club tonight / playing some songs that I think are alright / I’m not postmodern, just a man who can bark / and bite with teeth that leave a mark.” Set in an eerily light pop ballad, these lines sound almost innocuous and ultimately pack a greater punch as a result. “Imagine if I’d sung them in some fast punk rock rant, doing that on stage night after night,” exclaims Harcourt. To bark out the lyrics in such a way would be too obvious for this artist. He says, “The most interesting thing about the human is that it’s flawed. Flaws are much more interesting to me than someone who’s great, a winner and perfect.”

Harcourt understands why he’s compared to older singer-songwriters. “Because it’s [his music] quite traditional at the base of it, and centered in songwriting. Actually, I had listened to Randy Newman [before the comparisons], but not Harry Nilsson. I realized I was getting compared to him so I went out and bought some, it was wonderful. ‘Me and My Arrow,’ and ‘I Guess the Lord Must Be in New York City.’”

Harcourt envisioned the follow-up to Here Be Monsters as a 21-song double disc. Working with co-producer Tchad Blake, Harcourt winnowed it down to its 12-song, single-disc form. He’s still debating if he chose the best songs. When asked about the largesse of his original scheme, he laughs. “My bout with delusions of grandeur? I just love artists who do grand things. Sometimes they fall flat on their faces, and sometimes they don’t.

“I’m not really into being earnest and self-righteous, but I’m into naivete and something that has a certain innocence about it. Like, when I was writing songs before I was signed and no one had ever heard of me, it was so very pure. I’m a big fan of purity.”

“There’s a sense of humor in what I do as well,” states Harcourt, warning his listeners not to take his music too literally. For instance, “Metaphorically Yours” is more an exploration of the love song as an art form than the hopeless love song it appears to be. “I’m taking the piss out of it, dissecting it, but people don’t see that. You kind of have to live with it a bit, and it almost sneaks up on you. I’m not saying I’m clever, because I don’t think I am. But I think it’s subtle, and it’s not that obvious in the lyrics, even though the melodies are obvious.” Of music and love, Harcourt offers almost apologetically, “Music’s the only thing worth living for, I think really. When you’re in love, it’s only going to end in pain.”

He admits, “Beauty and violence are the two most important things in art.” And you can hear the beauty and tragedy, the flawed reality, the struggle to create an identity throughout Harcourt’s work. “Lyrically there’s a certain simplicity,” he says. “You know, like how Dylan would just rhyme and rhyme things, but it’s so subtle that people think that it’s only a nursery rhyme, that it has no meaning. Or they see something that’s a stinky love cliché. Sure, if you take it out of the actual context of the song, it’s going to sound cliché.

“I’m turning things on their head, but you’ve got to take the time to understand it. It’s coming from a different point of view. It’s more like a twisted love song, where you need to separate yourself from someone but you can’t cut the cord because you’re too weak. In ‘Metaphorically Yours,’ it’s like Siamese twins that are joined at the hip where you’ve got to cut them apart to save them.”

As in humanity, art is best, claims Harcourt, when it’s something other than perfect. “I like flaws, but you can’t make them happen or it’s contrived. You have to watch for the beautiful mistakes, the things that you didn’t mean to happen. It just takes a while to get it, you have to keep listening and then it will open up its big heart.”