Cortney Tidwell - Missing Link (Ever)
2/5
By: Chris O'Toole
Translating recorded audio or live musical performance into textual criticism is no easy task. The urgency, meaning and intent of the sound is lost in translation along the journey from origin to destination. If the task could be completed to perfection, there would be no need for music. If music could be entirely replicated with words, music would cease to exist. If all the urgency, passion and feeling could be roused with spoken or written words, then there would be simply no need for music. Armies would march off to war to the sounds of recited verse, cinema screens would hum with the sound of climatic dialogue during the closing scenes and adverts would have spoken jingles.
Thankfully this is not the case. Music is as vital, relevant and essential to modern life as it has been for centuries. But this does not alter the difficulty of the task of capturing the essence of a piece on paper. Describing its structure, instrumentation, influences and direction can only go so far. The task is made easier when concerned with avant-garde genius or egregious failure; but is all the harder when the middle road is taken. Rarely do you read reviews of the latest pop smashes, because there is simply nothing to say. This is not music for music fans, but something to fill the voids for mothers driving to pick up their children, for wedding dances and fathers watching their sons play football from the warmth of their Mercedes on a Sunday morning.
As such describing the work of Cortney Tidwell provides somewhat of a challenge. Her work is not worthy of explicit praise or scathing criticism. The murky drone introduction, provided by the synthesised piano contributions of Ryan Norris, is pleasant enough. There is no insightful chord progression or developing crescendos, just a tarmac road laid down in base elements for the rest of the track to travel along. Nothing too clever, nothing too political. Similarly the lightweight post-punk packaging, citing Joy Division as a hopeful reference, is a shadow of the original protagonists. The muffled bass drum and wet sand covered snare, accompanied by muted bass chords provide a brittle shell for the track to develop into. Again neither mesmerising nor antagonising. Finally Cortney Tidwell's vocals, claiming inspiration from Sinead O'Conner, range from insipid to bland. Multi-layering her voice to give the impression of a miniature choir provides some light relief, but is never enough to distract from the inherent mediocrity. The abrupt ending is perhaps the most surprising element of this composition.
The track is a buzzing fly. It circles the room, mildly irritating, but also a vaguely entertaining distraction. Eventually it finishes its dances and flies out of an open window. You wonder for a moment if you ever experienced it, before returning to the crossword, sadly unmoved by the impact it made on your life.
Your Feedback
Login to post your comment