Coproduced
by Chapman and Tchad Blake (Peter Gabriel, Bonnie Raitt), Where
You Live also features Flea of the Red Hot Chili Peppers
on the electric bass on three songs, including the opening track,
“Change,” one of the best on the album. The song
begins with a simple question: “If you knew that you would
die today…Would you change?” and proceeds to ask
why we are so stubborn when it comes to changing ourselves.
Though
the questions are weighty ones, the song itself is both optimistic
and inspirational, and illustrates some of Chapman’s best
songwriting skills. She is able to write about complex, often
political issues in a thoughtful way that invites listeners
to actually consider their responses.
Another
of my favorite songs on the album is the unabashedly
political anthem “America,” which could practically
be the theme song for the 2008 Democratic presidential candidate.
Built over insistent drums that echo the beat of an army advancing
(undoubtedly intentional), Chapman tackles American imperialism—both
international and domestic—and declares “The ghost
of Columbus haunts this world/’Cause you’re still
conquering America.”
Where
You Live doesn’t limit itself to political issues,
though; it also includes several heart-wrenching love songs,
including “Don’t Dwell,” which is one of my
favorites on the album. It’s particularly spare in its
musical arrangement, with only some muted electric guitar, gentle
drums, and a glockenspiel providing an otherworldly, metallic
reverberation behind Chapman’s voice.
The
song is double-layered, with each verse containing well-meaning
advice for how to move on from a broken relationship, but ending
with Chapman admitting, in a tender, murmured voice, that she
continues to feel the same emotions. It’s a bit eerie,
yes—especially the repeated “But I’m burning
for you” at the end—but it’s also one of the
most unique songs on the album. Chapman’s voice is higher
and clearer than usual, and the song has a loungey, downtown
feel that’s new for the folksinger.
It’s
fitting that “Don’t Dwell” is followed by
“Never Yours,” in which Chapman sings, “Say
I’m a saint of mercy/Say I’m a whore/I’ve
been a lot of things/But never yours.” She sounds resigned
to the fact, but there’s an edge to the lyrics that is
almost disguised by the gentle melody behind them.
It’s
this double-edged nature that makes Chapman’s love songs
so interesting. In “Love’s Proof,” Chapman
alternates between being a friend giving advice to someone to
“Try to forget her,” but by the end of the song
it becomes clear that she is giving this advice because she
is in love with this person, singing, “You think she’s
good/I’ll be better.”
It
seems that although the title of Chapman’s latest
album is Where You Live, the constant theme is less
about home than change: in oneself, in relationships, in society,
over time. The last song on the album, “Be and Be Not
Afraid,” is an open exhortation to approach change without
fear, and is a fitting response to the opening track.
It’s
that underlying sense of optimism that makes Where You Live
something worth listening to: Chapman seems to be saying
that though there are problems everywhere, change will come—and
change, in the end, is what makes things interesting, mistakes
and all.
Get
Where You Live on CD
