Joanna Newsom's The Milk-Eyed Mender Turns 20
Two decades with the magical star power from a once in a lifetime record.
In 2004, I am positive I thought my musical taste was much more advanced than it actually was at the time. As a teenager living in suburban Massachusetts, my exposure to new music was rather limited, but I put in some serious work. I bought music magazines every chance I could, and not just the obvious choices like Rolling Stone or Spin (I even remember a time when Spin didn’t even have a website!), but also finding new sources like Q, Blender, NME, or Filter. MTV was way too “mainstream” for me and even as I was edging out of my pop-punk phase, I was determined to find the next underground thing.
For me, the internet was still pretty new and aside from using it for downloading software like Napster or Kazaa, I wasn’t too great at finding new music. I did have a friend, however, who was a bit older than me, already out of high school, and pretty good at basic web coding. He was pretty far ahead of me in terms of his musical taste, but had already exposed me to artists I had heard of, but hadn’t checked out. I’ll never forget the time he posted his favorite music from 2004 and at the number one spot, he had The Milk-Eyed Mender by Joanna Newsom. It was a year-end list so obviously I was already late to the game here, but the cover art alone was intriguing enough for it to burn its image inside my brain and something that day pushed me to check this one out. I’m glad I did. It didn’t hurt when I saw another older friend who had recently given me his entire CD collection to copy and had it as well and when I saw him putting it into his Walkman, I knew it was fate.
From the child-like art cover, which looked like whimsical drawings of fairy tales, to the fact that the main instrument on the album was a harp, I was immediately hooked. Then there was her voice. To this day, I can’t think of another singer who had such entrancing vocals that grabbed me so strongly on first listen. Of course, this wouldn’t be the case for other listeners. When I tried to play her for friends people were cautious. Many outright said they hated it and found her voice unlistenable and worse, found it painful to listen to. I couldn’t have disagreed more and found that her vocal styling only added to the majesty of the album.
When it came to the songs themselves, it was like opening the door to Narnia and discovering a whole new world inside. These were gentle, at times playful, and always surreal works of art that brought classical elements to music when I was busy looking for loud, obnoxious, and heavily distorted guitars that were usually accompanied by double kick drum hits. This couldn’t have been more opposite.
Opening number “Bridges and Balloons” still feels like a magical portal, one where we sail away together towards a land of possibilities and uncompromised beauty. It’s instantly enchanting and her lyrical sensibility hits right out of the gate. I had never heard anyone write a song like this and while so many were quick to write her off as a joke or someone not to be taken seriously, I was in awe of her magic.
Little did I know that this album was hitting just as the newly named “Freak Folk” scene was beginning to get its legs. I was still years away from knowing Animal Collective or Devendra Banhart and had no idea about the boho styles that would be merged with hipster idealism to celebrate the unpolished feel and vibes of music that somehow seemed to be ragged yet approachable. For me, this was just another shift away from pop music and the emo punk I was trading in for and while some of the other freak-folk acts prided themselves for the lo-fi recording techniques, to me, that never applied to Joanna’s music. Milk-Eyed Mender has always sounded sharp and pristine, the production quality one of the hallmarks that made it such a standout (alongside her voice and that ever significant harp).
After being easily sold on what seemed like the simplicity of her songs, countless listens would unveil Newsom’s incredible songwriting skills and the detail, structure, and overall lyrical wit would be the sticking points after so many years. While the titles and nature to some care across as childish, the subject matter has depth that still reveals itself with each spin of the record. “I am blue and unwell” she states on “Pear, Plum, Pear,” as she narrates her way through what feels like the end of a relationship, one from which she bolts like a horse.
The grandiosity of her music felt impressive here, but we’d later learn just what she’d have in store for us on her opus Ys, but this record is the one that set the scene for her career that would follow. Even as she advanced her songwriting and storytelling to stunning new heights, the idea of Joanna Newsom’s music seems to be forever tied to The Milk-Eyed Mender, for better or worse. In reality, everything that came after sounded like a radical departure with little of her future recordings touching on the musical aesthetics on display here. Her harp playing would later feel more focused, her voice changed, and the addition of piano as a more prominent instrument would shape the albums that would follow giving her debut a special place in her discography. This would be even more apparent over time and feel even more distinct in her live shows when compared to new compositions. It’s not that these songs were rawer than what would follow, but there’s a certain air around them that feels uncharacteristically distinct.
As the years have gone by, more and more time has passed between her albums and while she’s still yet to release a dud, the accessibility of her later work is somehow more impenetrable than anything on her monumental debut. To the dismissives who never bothered to take her seriously, the joke now is on them as Newsom has recruited a devoted and loyal fanbase far beyond the indie circles that nearly rejected her from the beginning. She put harp back on the map and has climbed to the ranks as a voice of her generation, making some of the most compelling and groundbreaking music of the past two decades. Milk-Eyed was only the beginning and while hearing anything quite as life changing as this again feels nearly impossible, being able to listen to this one repeatedly is almost as exciting and after a long break, putting it on again retriggers the magic of a first listen and the sparkle returns just as vividly as it did the first time. It’s that special power that makes it such an important album and one that still feels like its own star in the galaxy.