Warm, personable, and often erring on charmingly twee, Kimya Dawson's music has always communicated with her fans via revealing and heartfelt lyrics. Dawson's short-lived duo the Moldy Peaches spearheaded the so-called anti-folk movement in 2001 with their self-titled debut, which blurred fairly light compositions with slapdash, seemingly spontaneous stories. In contrast, topics such as body image, depression, and child abuse made their way on to Dawson's last solo album, 2004's Hidden Vagenda. That record was created in a high-scale studio alongside well-known musicians from bands like Primus and Eels, but on the newly released Remember That I Love You Dawson returns to minimal instrumentation, home-tracked recordings, contributions from her circle of friends. With Dawson, the focus is on the lyrics, with her music tending to serve as a mere platform for sprawling, humorous stories whose serious subject matter contradicts the childlike catchiness underpinning them.
Both lyrically and in her quick yet carefully considered delivery, Dawson most closely resembles her buddy Jeffrey Lewis. Each artist has a sharp wit that overrides his or her faux naïve spin, and while Dawson's music is often about her own self-exploration and questioning, she also offers advice to her listeners. "I Like Giants" is a funny, metaphor laden shout out to anyone who has ever had body confidence issues, and "Caving In" is about accepting those days when you feel helpless and low. Dawson also embraces mortality as one of the main themes of Remember That I Love You. "12/26" is a moving, honest account of how she felt about the tsunami of 2004, and "Underground" deals with her desire to be cremated instead of buried. Perhaps the most touching is "My Mom", on which Dawson talks about her hospitalized mother's illness and urges her ghosts to go away ("As long as she is haunted she'll never get strong/ My mom needs you gone").
On "The Competition", Dawson sings: "On the days I stayed in bed/ I sang and sang about how crappy I felt/ Without realizing how many other people would relate". This is what the relationship between Dawson and her fans is built upon: realizing that you are not alone, and looking at difficult issues through the lens of laughter. The only time I ever met Kimya Dawson, she grabbed me and gave me a huge bear hug for seemingly no reason; that's kind of how her music feels-- like a comforting, unexpected embrace.
