Laurie Anderson’s first album since 2018 soars into the self-consuming power of obsession, as told through the final flight of Amelia Earheart. It’s accompanied by the release of some videos from Anderson’s creative archives.

“I spent a long time trying to figure out why she did this so obsessively,” reflects Anderson, recalling Lou Harrison’s song “Fly into the Sun.” “The answers were somehow always in songs, because they don’t make sense otherwise. There was so much force behind what she did. She wasn’t just gliding around the sky; she was pushing against it. So flying to the sun is a self-immolating experience … the experience of throwing yourself into the brightest light you can find.”

The album sees the artist fully focused on her narrative style, spoken word floating atop a score that’s unusually lyrical, even at moments romantic. Earheart was a childhood fascination – something a lot of us growing up in the US with fancies of flight can relate to, I think. That sense of childhood wonder mixes with the pilot’s own tragic, operatic descent.

For this project, Anderson says she worked to bridge her electric violin and narration and the orchestra. Her voice transforms into an array of characters, though with economical use of processing to differentiate themselves, apart from a distant radio voice that embodies “communication that … is a wreck, that has exploded and disintegrated.” 

As the bridge, we get a who’s who of the NYC downtown scene-inspired set of multifaceted musicians, forming a high-flying ensemble. That includes Anohni, Gabriel Cabezas, Rob Moose, Ryan Kelly, Martha Mooke, Marc Ribot, Tony Scherr, Nadia Sirota, and Kenny Wollesen, who join Brno’s philharmonic with Dennis Russell Davies as conductor and arranger.

Image above: from print.

For some more Laurie Anderson action, she’s been posting vintage gems to the Nonesuch YouTube channel. (There’s something that feels a bit wrong about seeing the Nonesuch logo on YouTube and not on a record sleeve, but I’m not complaining!) Here are the latest of those:

I’d never seen these 1989 PSAs, but they have a weird currency to them. Everything goes in loops, maybe. And good to bring up in an election year, USA. They also charmingly take on the message “It’s Our Pleasure To Serve You” from the iconic Greek-themed disposable coffee cups from NYC diners and street coffee. (Order it regular, that’s with milk and two sugars.)

Enjoy. And happy 60th, Nonesuch. (It’s lovely to see the old logotype back.)

Laurie Anderson’s New Album, ‘Amelia,’ Out Now on Nonesuch Records