Search - Oxbow :: Let Me Be a Woman

Another Chapter In The Suicide That Won't Give

L. Myers | Decatur, GA United States | 07/01/2007

(4 out of 5 stars)

"Oxbow's most vulnerable album, more clues are sparkled about in this than any other album as to why Oxbow is what it is. "Sunday" is dirgey and noisy, more traditional and operatic in its structure, showcasing the composed improvisational aspect belying all Oxbow's sound. "Gal" is everything that needs be said regarding Eugene Robinson's fractured state of mind. Even if the song isn't autobiographical (though he has implied as such), the sense of mental anguish displayed exposes some frayed nerves and more than a few torn muscles and ropeburns. "Virgin Bride" is interesting mostly because it features female vocals which aren't as stylized and captivating as Eugene but do often compliment his as he reveals his frustration with life and its frequent lack of value. "1000" is Eugene's most 'poetic' composition ever, with an ABAB rhyme scene to boot. It actually took me many listens to fully love it but its an interesting ditty about the love of the madonna-whore persona. And then comes "Me and The Moon", harrowing, tortured by guilt, Eugene regurgitates memories best written down and buried in the backyard along with your underwear stained with blood from your sore seeping rectal muscles. This and "Gal", combined, changed my perspective on Oxbow's catalogue and forced me to hear their music, and the words especially, from the viewpoint of the victim rather than the aggressor. "Stabbing Hand" and "Acker Sound" are two separate compositions that are layered over one another as "Stabbing Hand: Read All Over". The feedback-drenched instrumentation of Oxbow is partially used as backing for Acker's story as a girl entering prostitution and a murder investigation after her wallet is stolen in the movies. But as the drama evolves and details darken from Wuthering Heights to S&M, the drums clump in, slow and lazy, and the weight heavies as Eugene takes over reliving a night he got his revenge, the day he can't forget, the day he gave the devil back his due. The song continues as such, lightening as Acker reads, becoming suddenly dense once the band takes back center stage until the tense atmosphere arrives at the inevitable turning of the tables, when only one walks out through those doors. "Let Me Be A Woman" is more a collection of songs than most of their catalogue. The strain that runs through each of the album is the feeling of striking back from the corner after the abuse has gone on long enough. The contribution of female energy should invite more female fans to the Oxbow camp, but my hopes aren't high."