Where do broken hearts go? If they belong to an artist dedicated to their craft, it’s likely that they’ll go on forever and stay broken. It’s a cliche to claim that artists’ work is assisted by disappointment, but it’s certainly been proven to work. The real trick is getting through all the other hours in the day that do not involve the art.
Mary Middlefield is stuck. She has a beautiful problem that could turn into a living hell any second. But Middlefield is not only dealing with it, but laying all the cards on the table on the revealing “Poetry (for the scorned and lonely).” This is not music written for those that act brave and walk on. These are songs for all the ones who’ve carried the hurt with them and who’ll proudly admit to it.
And, Mary Middlefield is not dedicated to making a record that everyone will love either. That might stop the songwriter from dissecting her past loves. The album opener, “Sexless,” an indie-rock anthem to lust and resentment dares to point fingers at the desperately romantic. They are all fools, aren’t they?
Next, “Atlantis,” is not a song about mythical continents buried under the sea, but about legendary love affairs who have suffered the same fate. The folk-pop of “Heart’s Desire” makes good use of Middlefield’s warm, comfortable singing voice and offers memories a safe place in which to crowd back in.
In many ways, “Poetry (for the scorned and lonely)” is an examination of how love brings out the best and the worst in us. And, when and if it’s over, we don’t get to choose to be left without the ghosts of it.
The skeletons of the affair are brought back in the melancholy-ridden “Love Me Love Me Not.” There’s “Young and Dumb”, which serves as a full confession. Those guilty of idealizing love are bound to both improve and wreck their own worlds. And, “Last Letter” is a gentle admission of affection written in spite of everything that’s come before.
What does this leave us with? “Poetry” closes off the album and promises nothing except honey mixed with venom for the foreseeable future. It’s a beautiful folk-pop ballad and a fitting closer to an album where nothing is left hidden.
Mary Middlefield may well feel more than most. That’s not a great thing for the ol’ nerves, but a wonderful thing when it comes to producing art. That’s not a fair tradeoff. But love ain’t fair either.
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