Though she may list “illuminated manuscripts” as a main influence, Julia Shammas Holter also demonstrates a strong connection to the surreal. Like a Dali painting, “Eating the Stars” challenges logical structures while indulging in seemingly disparate layers of the peculiar, yet reminiscently familiar.
Bizarre lyrics and subject matter complement the intimacy of the low-fi EP, completely written and recorded by the Echo Park musician. Classically trained, Holter applies her musical sensibilities to compositions that channel the pastiche layering of The Books, the saccharine naivety of a childhood rhyme, and the ancient myths that have succeeded into the present.
Rejecting traditional, verse/chorus pop song structure in her eight songs, Holter demonstrates and discards the loss inherent in embracing cliches.
“Je Vivroie Liement” first presents itself in the guise of a simple fast-tempo pop song, cutely sung in French, until it breaks into a whirlwind of fragmented technical distortions.
A complex and cohesive stream of consciousness, Holter’s album embraces non sequiturs in order to produce something outside the realm of tradition and logic.
Introducing her interest in spiritual figures and origins in “Neighbor, Neighbor,” Holster expands upon her exploration of Christian characters in “Saint Eulalia.” A dedication to the Spanish Christian martyr, Holter emphasizes the awesome narrative of the young devotional virgin.
A buzzing harmonium, which is reminiscent of a funeral organ, sets the devotional tone, but Holter’s syrupy voice ensures that the song celebrates the possibility of lasting and confident innocence.
Pondering over the reason for St. Eulalia’s devotion, Holter pits the negative traits of pitilessness and obstinacy against the achievement of immense and forceful love. Ultimately, Holter settles upon the latter with a confession: “I am heathen, / but so in love with you.”
Despite the grimmer depths of the album (regardless of its ludic title, “50 Bunny Rabbits” firmly plunges into the melancholy), Holter’s overarching sentiment is one of relaxed optimism.
In her cover of the Crowded House ’80s staple “Don’t Dream it’s Over,” Holter presents the lasting relevance of the song’s approval of the potent power of human connection.
The heavy fragmentation of a media-inundated society is presented as less of a wall than an artistic possibility. Creating calm through a mess of sounds and whimsy, Holter affirms her choice to extract hope from where it is typically absent.
““ Mindy Poder