Undrentide
(Nettwerk)
The name might conjure visions of Ramones-style female rockers, decked out in revealing armor, belting out songs with titles like “Gonna Tear You Up To-Knight” and “Now I Wanna Sniff Some Ye Olde Glue”. As ridiculous as that sounds (and it sounds highly ridiculous), it seems like a more plausible idea than what the Bæbes actually are:12 women, led by former Miranda Sex Garden eccentric Katharine Blake, who sing Middle Age poetry to a musical tapestry that is a combination of acoustic/Gaelic/Olde Time/Renaissance/Pure Moods-New Age salted down with a dash of the olde worlde.
Undrentide, the Bæbes third album, is their strongest connection yet with their Ophelia-esque muse, thanks in part to producer John Cale (yup, that one) and Blake’s savvy musical direction. The 53-minute disc oscillates between quiet burbles and diaphanous voices (often in multi-part harmony) that float like benign spirits. String arrangements festooned with zither, dulcimer, recorder and hurdy gurdy on songs with titles like “Maiden In the Mor Lay”, “Dance of the Trolls”, “Secreit Nicht” and “At a Springe-wel” you get a pretty good idea of the territory in which the Bæbes trod.
What makes the record tingle rather than emit the musty, mossy odor of music long dead is the layer of sensuality the Bæbes sprinkle like fairy dust. From the extravagantly costumed and made up (dig Blake’s spider-web hairpiece) poses on the cover to the bewitching individual booklet shots of the gals to the hip-hop backing Cale fits to “Omnes Gentes Plaudite (The Drinking Song)”, there is clearly 21st Century sexual knowledge lurking in the Bæbes’ Age of Innocence. Combine that with the flat-out unusual musical turf the dozen female voices inhabit, and Undrentide seems the clear choice to puzzle and delight the room at your next party. Or maybe it’s just the perfect thing for when you’ve just gotten out of---or are climbing into--bed. Either way, it’s this season’s best bet to follow the genre-crossing sales success of the Chant series, especially since the Bæbes are way hotter than any Monk (including Thelonious).
Time Out New York, 2000
