Just how significant is NYC singer-songwriter Diane Cluck? As she tells it on one song from Macy's Day Bird, "God made it rain so I'd run to the bus stop/ God knew otherwise I'd be late." And so it goes within Cluck's hermetic musical universe, where not only does she invariably cast herself as the central figure, but where nearly everything else-- apparently including even the weather-- seems to exist solely in order to provide her songs with their direction and interpretive meaning.
With this 2xCD collection, Important has generously combined two of Cluck's early releases-- 2002's Macy's Day Bird and 2003's Black with Green Leaves-- both of which were originally self-released in strictly limited editions. On each of these records, Cluck displays the same distinctive, spartan delivery which has endeared her to both the anti-folk contingent as well as to the decidedly pro-folk likes of Devendra Banhart, who included her song "Heat From Every Corner" on the momentous Golden Apples of the Sun compilation. Accompanied here only by single variant strands of guitar, piano, or harmonium, Cluck performs her intensely private creations with a powerful, emotive voice and a full devotion to microscopic self-analysis. It's a no-frills approach that can quickly instill a rather oppressive degree of intimacy, and one that is sure to immediately divide her audience between those who find her over-saturated, myopic lyrics to be intrinsically compelling and those who do not.
In the past, Cluck's idiosyncratic vocal style and lo-fi recording techniques have frequently earned her comparisons to Jandek, but on this collection her performances are seldom as purely atonal or as truly emotionally harrowing as anything in the Corwood catalog. Not surprisingly, the recording quality of the earlier Macy's Day Bird is slightly cruder than that of Black With Green Leaves, or more recent works like 2005's Oh Vanille/ Ova Nil, but the production differences are ultimately negligible. Following a brief untitled introduction, Macy's opens with "Save Me", on which Cluck issues a heartfelt plea for salvation from-- predictably enough-- herself and her own ambitions. ("Save me, drape me in weakness, make me excuses, tell me it's okay to lose.") Later, on "Battlefield Nurse", she assumes the role of the romantic martyr, lamenting "Sometimes I feel like a battlefield nurse/ It's a role that I was born for/ I don't need to rehearse."
Macy's Day Bird also includes "Heat From Every Corner", a track whose shimmering, understated mystery carries an intoxicating power, as does "Hover Not", which is greatly animated by encircling swoops of homespun, overdubbed vocals. These multi-tracked vocals are used even more extensively on Black With Green Leaves, a decision that helps make the latter half of this collection substantially more appealing. Tracks like "Crash Through the Half-Light" and "Casting About" move with an entrancing, somnambulant swirl as Cluck begins to rely ever further on her wordlessly coiling syllables. On "I'm Yr Here-- I Am" she delivers her most forceful vocal performance, calling out romantic threats like "Don't waste me/ I won't last long/ And I won't come back" over percussive guitar strums with the authority of a young Sinead O'Connor at open mic night. True to form, this set closes with Cluck issuing one final, literal call for help on "The Party Tonight". Phoning up an nameless friend, she asks, "Will you prop me up and tell me what to wear?" as her lyrical voice again crosses carelessly from casual intimacy into distant self-absorption, leaving her listeners again to feel like impolite guests who have tarried too long within Cluck's own private domain.
