Big Thief — Capacity
Processing significant moments from your own past in relation to those of loved ones — family members, romantic partners, friends — can complicate, confuse, confirm and/or comfort. The latter also demands putting yourself in someone else’s position, inhabiting their realm — free of judgment — in order to fully appreciate, understand and most importantly — empathize. I think it’s safe to say Adrianne Lenker — Big Thief’s leader and primary songwriter — is an empath. The band’s sophomore album, Capacity, is a beautiful, revelatory musical journey that finds significance in the ways we connect as humans — and the trauma, joy, heartbreak, pleasure those connections bring — and furthermore, how they allow us to learn and grow. Whereas their debut record Masterpiece tended to look inwards, Capacity peers outwards — creating an inviting, tender and thoughtful — even if sometimes quite dark — world in which to get lost in; it’s a record about reflection and contemplation through the examination of outside perspectives. And it’s one of the most astonishing and rewarding records I have heard in years.
Lenker introduces many characters throughout Capacity. The first word sung on opener “Pretty Things” is Matthew. We learn of a joyride gone awry with Evelyn on standout “Shark Smile.” “Mythological Beauty” references her older brother Andrew. There are songs titled “Mary” and “Haley.” These songs feel personal. The album cover even features a photograph of Lenker as an infant in the arms of her uncle. And when the introductions aren’t so explicit, there are nameless friends, a sister, a child, a momma. The characters provide important context for each song. “Mythological Beauty,” in particular, contains a vivid and heart-wrenching retelling of an accident that almost killed Lenker when she was 5 years old and how her mother must have felt in that moment. The album’s darkest moments are revealed through characters that show up during “Watering” and “Coma,” the former about an unnamed male violently assaulting the narrator and the latter about the lasting effects of a female coming out of a coma. “Mary,” on the other hand, is Capacity’s most beautifully arranged and performed song — though more lyrically opaque — with a chorus that reads like a stream of consciousness list pondering various memories while remembering an old friend.
“What did you tell me Mary when you were there so sweet and very / full of field and stars you carried all of time / oh and heavens when you looked at me / your eyes were like machinery your hands / were making artifacts in the corner of my mind / monastery monochrome boom balloon machine and oh / diamond rings and gutter bones marching up the mountain with our / aching planning high and smiling cheap drink dark and violent / full of butterflies the violent tenderness the sweet asylum / the clay you find is fortified we felt unfocused fade the line / the sugar rush the constant hush the pushing of the water gush /the marching band when april ran may june bugs fly and push / your old gin Jacob with the tired wirey brandy look / here we go round Mary in your famous story book”
And while Lenker is clearly front and center on Capacity— the band (guitarist Buck Meek, drummer James Krivchenia and bassist Max Oleartchik) bend and shape their way around the vocals in subtle and stunning ways. As the story of two lovers on the road progresses in the cinematic “Shark Smile,” and as the emergency becomes dire in “Mythological Beauty,” the rhythm builds steadily until the climactic reverberations are felt as much through the instrumentals as the lyrics. The title track is a truly striking arrangement — Lenker’s voice just seems to be floating above what sounds like a slew of reverb heavy guitars — there’s a real boldness in the way it’s composed. The band provide flourishes throughout that accentuate the more dramatic moments on Capacity when they need to but there’s so much constraint at play as well. When you have a storyteller as remarkable and confident as Lenker, it’s arguable there’s no need for anything but that voice — but as a band, Big Thief have developed into a fully formed and complementary unit — and one that have created a peerless artistic statement.
In reference to the tone and themes of Capacity, Lenker said “there is a darker darkness and a lighter light” in comparison to Masterpiece. The record is almost split in two with the first half as the dark, and “Great White Shark” — which contains the lyric “for in the dark there is release” — as the divider, and the second half as the light. The first half is trauma while the back half is catharsis. With songs early on like “Pretty Things” and “Watering,” the actions of toxic men create wounds that will likely never heal while later on, songs such as “Mythological Beauty,” “Haley,” and “Mary” sound like musical memorializations of women who have had a profound and positive impact. Yet as the album wraps up, “Black Diamonds” finds the narrator in the presence of another man, a new love for whom an attempt is being made to break free of traumatic past experiences. “Sometimes you will find / things I do not know how to leave behind / I’ve been grappling with my own mind / I’ve been stuck inside a jail” Lenker sings, seemingly apologetic for the things that she’s seen and experienced and their potential to negatively affect the partnership. The lyrics exemplify what it means to have empathy — and the capacity one has to not only feel and process their own emotions but those of others. It’s also an elegant and delicate reminder of what it means to be there for somebody you love — and sometimes that’s just reminding them they have a shoulder to cry on.
With Capacity, Big Thief have created something universal from the intensely personal. There is so much to cherish here and like many of my favorite records, I know that new meaning and understanding will continue to reveal itself through repeated listening for years to come. I so rarely hear something that makes me rethink music’s potential but Capacity was effective in doing so. As I listen to Lenker detail such intimate memories and profundities, I am as much in awe of her talent as I am grateful for it. In a time when attention spans are basically non-existent and selfishness literally reigns, a record like Capacity is a powerful representation of the real human experience — one where we not only rely on each other but we have so much to learn from one another as well. And sometimes we have to sit with our pain because we’ll come out stronger and wiser on the other side. Everyone has the capacity to love and to heal — thankfully Big Thief are here to remind us of that.
