Album of the Week: “Knives Don’t Have Your Back”

(photo courtesy EmilyHaines.com)

Expressions of existential woe usually leave a listener frustrated as poorly executed hooks share melancholy in a way that is both methodical and messy. It takes an affinity for both poetry and sound to express the anxiety of death and existence in a way that is beautiful, empathetic and all encompassing.

Emily Haines manages to ride this fine line, swallowing the listener whole in piano-driven melodies that showcase her intoxicating contralto voice.

She trades the synth for strings and sex for solitude in her first album, apart from fronting dance-rock band, Metric. “Knives Don’t Have Your Back” is an intimate look at four years of Haines’ life as lyrics allude to the many manifestations of loss and loneliness.

Knives opens with “Our Hell,” a song that communicates the motif of the entire album. “There’s a pattern in the system, there’s a bullet in the gun, that’s why I tried to save you, but it can’t be done,” Haines laments, acknowledging and criticizing the short-comings of fame and modern life.

Haines recruits talented support to make up the Soft Skeleton, including Justin Peroff from Broken Social Scene, Evan Cranley from Stars and Jimmy Shaw from Metric.

Scott Minor’s subtle drums build intrigue and create an aura of intimacy throughout “Our Hell” and the remainder of the album. Minor contributed drums for Sparklehorse before frontman Mark Linkous committed suicide earlier this year. Haines wrote a eulogy commemorating his art and friendship.

Prior to the death of Mark Linkous, Haines wrote “Doctor Blind,” the second song on this album that enumerates the hypocrisies of everything from toothless dentists to modern medicine’s phantom pharmaceutical cures.

“Rather give the world away, than wake up lonely,” Haines sings alone with her piano. In “Crowd Surf Off a Cliff,” she takes a look at the sad moments that accompany fame and long-distance love in your thirties. “All the babies tucked away in their beds, we’re out here screaming, ‘the life that you thought through is gone.’”

Borrowing the title from a poem written by her father Paul Haines, who died in winter 2002, “Detective Daughter” is lyrically surrealistic as mirrors reflect time’s shortcomings and long legs dance with nowhere to hide between rich textures.

With feminism rearing its head only cryptically in Metric’s dance music, “The Lottery” opens up sex and ideology. “I only wanted what everyone wanted since bras started burning up ribs in the sixties,” she sings as the song begins. Light strings and Minor’s drums break up the album’s piano-driven ballads on this track.

“Would you put on the fire for me, draw the bath, and remind me to eat?” Haines sings, inquiring as the feminist motif continues in “The Maid Needs a Maid,” supported by her piano and voice.

Intention steeps in every chord of “Mostly Waving.” The song seems to mark a subtle turn in tone for the album. Haines writes on her website that “Mostly Waving” and the next song, “Reading in Bed,” were written during the winter her father passed.

In “The Last Page,” grief and sorrow are palpable. Every note and word echoes dream-like catharsis: “Don’t become the one you hated, death is absolutely safe, billion Bibles mark the last page.” Her voice echoes therapy and reassurance to all who listen and grieve the permanence of death and loss.

“Winning” appropriately closes the album with Haines alone with her piano. She evokes the existential doubt of other songwriting greats like Elliott Smith and Mark Linkous in a way that is distinctly feminine but universally accessible.

“Knives” is so personal it feels at times a violation to explore the inner recesses of Haines’ soul, yet she crafts her pain into melodies that whisper both beauty and loss, anxiety with aestheticism, in a way that makes this album unforgettable.

Buy Emily Haines and the Soft Skeleton’s first album, “Knives Don’t Have Your Back” online here.

Contact CU Independent Opinion Editor Sara Kassabian at Sara.kassabian@colorado.edu.