Will Oldham may go by many different names and, in doing so, affect a wary distance from his audiences as if perpetually squaring off against his listener, but the man knows himself. He may be the most self-possessed artist working today, shifting and feinting and dodging to his own rhythm, his own sensibility. It may not always be apparent to outsiders or even to fans; in fact, his 20-year career is peppered with question marks and odd course changes, suggesting an aloofness that can be as fascinating as it is alienating. What is apparent, however, is that it all makes sense to him, such that even his most obscure asides carry the force of self-determination.
His latest headscratcher is an EP-- as Bonnie "Prince" Billy-- of new takes on old songs, titled Now Here's My Plan, presumably borrowed from this Shel Silverstein book. Perhaps the book's subtitle-- "A Book of Futilities"-- says more than the title itself: The weight of Oldham's catalog may be weighing on him, an inescapable burden that even this most mercurial artist cannot shake. Rather than crumple under so many songs, Oldham finds opportunity by redefining them, as he has done in the past. In 2004, a scant five years after introducing his Bonnie "Prince" Billy moniker, Oldham reassessed his back catalog on Bonnie "Prince" Billy Sings Greatest Palace Music, on which he reconfigured some of his earliest material in a self-consciously C&W style. Perhaps it was a sly parody of the greatest hits package that often seems obligatory once artists notch a certain number of releases. Or perhaps he was just bored.
If there's any sort of parodic sensibility guiding Now Here's My Plan, Oldham's playing it awfully close to the chest. Backed by his tour band, he circles through six old cuts ranging from 1999 through 2009, offering new arrangements and in some cases dramatically different interpretations. The band is good, road-tested, and sympathetic to Oldham's most harebrained schemes. Emmett Kelly's guitar functions like a good movie score: It sets a tone while never intruding on the action, and while it might not always foreground the songs, he's always doing something intriguing. And Angel Olsen may be his best duet partner, with that seen-it-all break in her voice. The musicians-- including Ben Boye, Van Campbell, and Danny Kiely-- have variously appeared on recent Bonnie "Prince" Billy albums, including Wolfroy Goes to Town and Beware.
The band is so prominent on the EP that it takes on the feel of a tour souvenir, suggesting new arrangements worked out onstage. As such, despite the gravity of Oldham's lyrics and the solemnity of these performances, it sounds less weighty than their previous efforts. Few have written about the desperation that attends love and sex and companionship as evocatively as Oldham has done, so songs like "Beast for Thee" and "No Gold Digger" are welcome exhumations and strong showcases for Oldham's singing. Over the years his voice has grown a bit mushier with age, exhibiting a soft grain evocative of time and wear. He sounds more human, which lends this droning version of "Three Questions" in particular a directness not necessarily present in the original.
It's one thing to reset deep album cuts, another thing entirely to manhandle your biggest hit-- if "hit" can describe any Will Oldham song. "I See a Darkness" is most certainly his most well-known song: Not only does it anchor his best album, but it's also the one upon which Johnny Cash bestowed the status of modern country standard. On the new version, drummer Van Campbell quickens the pulse of the song with an insistent kickdrum tattoo, and Oldham's performance is spirited but less solemn. It's less an intimation of evil or tragedy and more like a reminder: "Guys, I completely forgot to mention-- I see a darkness, yonder!"
Essentially, Oldham has taken his weightiest song and rendered it inconsequential. It's neither a piss-take nor a stunt, but it does turn a career highlight into another deep cut. His brazen attitude toward his back catalog, which would be so easy to revere, is commendable, even refreshing. Whether Now Here's My Plan succeeds in its obscure goal is almost beside the point. Whether you'll listen to it more than once is another matter entirely.
