Antony and the Johnsons - The Crying Light

While there’s no doubt that Antony Hegarty has been a busy soul between …And The Johnsons long-players – the New York-based Brit abroad has appeared as a guest on a series of releases and co-wrote a great deal of the debut Hercules And Love Affair album – this follow-up to 2005’s Mercury Prize-winning ‘I Am A Bird Now’ seems overdue.

Many an artist in Hegarty’s position would have sought to capitalise on their newfound celebrity by rush-releasing a record to ensnare the newcomers to their sound, finding their way only via post-Mercury plaudits. But it’s to his credit that Hegarty has delayed ‘The Crying Light’ ‘til it was, to his mind, perfect – while a four-year period between albums will see sales fall off, it’s responsible for the production of what must rank as the best Antony And The Johnsons record yet.

‘The Crying Light’ finds the sweet spot between theatrical grandeur and elegant understatement quite wonderfully, enthralling throughout with turn after turn of delicate instrumentation and sumptuous orchestration, while all the time Antony’s uniquely passionate vocals slip in and out of the mix – never overpowering the arrangements, instead complementing them like never before.

Opener ‘Her Eyes Are Underneath The Ground’ sets a fine tone – both melancholic and triumphant as Antony sighs: “No one can stop you now,” over a simple, beautiful piano line and subtle background strings. His voice recedes when the orchestral arrangement – directed by both Hegarty and composer (and fellow Björk collaborator) Nico Muhly – rises to the foreground; he never tries to travel with it, instead giving the music the space it needs to soar without baggage.

It’s this balance – the deft touches of light and shade that never embolden to broad lines not to be crossed – that defines ‘The Crying Light’. ‘Epilepsy Is Dancing’ ends with a beautiful duet between Antony and his arrangement, where one never steps on the other’s toes. The record’s title track is equally excellently pitched, a falsetto finding its place between piano and guitar notes played with a touch most light: the swell of sound comes not through volume, but the respectful layering of instruments.

Perhaps the most affecting piece is ‘Aeon’, which features Antony’s most soul-revealing turn. Here, his voice fills the speakers; it’s the one time he truly takes centre stage over all other elements. It’s a love song delivered with honesty – a true rarity in an industry blighted by artifice at every level, and refreshing in its rawness.

‘The Crying Light’ won’t be the commercial success ‘I Am A Bird Now’ was, but you sense its maker cares not for financial gain beyond that necessary to continue his path. Hergarty pursues his art at his pace only, and if the end products of the future are as wonderful as this collection, long may his schedule sit out of step with the music world’s instant-hit fixation.

(Read our exclusive interview with Antony Hegarty HERE)