The Worse Things Get, the Harder I Fight, The Harder I Fight, The More I Love You

Neko Case's new album, which has the Fiona-Apple-like title, The Worse Things Get, the Harder I Fight, the Harder I Fight, the More I Love You, is described as her most personal record to date, coming after a depression sparked by the deaths of her parents and grandmother. All I know is this is yet another classic by one of my favorite music artists.

It took me a few listens to get into it. Her songs are not immediately catchy; they can wander and make oblique statements, such as "Night Still Comes," which opens with:

"My brain makes drugs to keep me slow,
A hilarious joke for some dead pharaoh.
But now, not even the masons know
What drug will keep night from coming."

That's kind of inscrutable, yet at the same time intriguing, and this album is full of those kind of songs that Case has written for years. She is someone who seems to be fascinated by things that happen in the woods in the dark. Consider one of her true crime songs, "Bracing For Sunday:"

"I only ever held one love,
Her name was Mary Anne
She died having a child by her brother
He died because I murdered him.
I shot him through his jelly eye."

But there are other songs of exquisite beauty. "Nearly Midnight, Honolulu," an a capella story of Case overhearing abusive language from a mother to her child, or "Afraid," a cover of a song by Case's homonym, Nico. "Calling Cards" is one of the only straight out love songs that I recall Case singing:

"Every dial tone, every truck stop, every heartbreak,
I love you more
Looking like you just woke up from making songs,
Shooting satellites that blew up the pay phones...
Singing we'll all be together,
Even when we're not together
With our arms around each other,
With our faith still in each other"


The album's production doesn't detract much from Case's voice, which is so beautiful and penetrating, or her songwriting. "Where Did I Leave That Fire" has samples of the pinging of sonar. The other cover, of Robyn Hitchcock's "Madonna of the Wasps" has a psychedelic-folk sound, and accompanying vocals by M. Ward of She & Him, which is lush and lovely and sounds wonderfully out of place.

The first single from the album, and the most straight-ahead rock and roll song, is "Man," which deals with Case's gender identity:

"I'm a man
That's what you raised me to be
I'm not an identity crisis
This was planned"

I'm seeing Case next week at Radio City Music Hall. I have an immense crush on her. In a recent New Yorker article she talked about life on her farm in Vermont, and how she doesn't have a partner now, but she's looking forward to meeting her new boyfriend.