Standing at 6 feet 4" tall with a shock of bright red hair, 23 year old Patrick Wolf is something of a statement even before he opens his mouth. His two albums to date--2003's Lycanthropy and 2005's Wind in the Wires--have showed him to be more than a pretty face, however, with songs that strike an attractive balance between the imaginative and the indulgent. His third album, The Magic Position, is undoubtedly Wolf's 'pop' moment. The rollicking romp of "Get Lost," the upbeat "Accident and Emergency," and the celebratory title track all underline new levels of accessibility and--dare we say it--optimism. There are hints of the old Wolf too of course, especially in the eclectic choice of instrumentation and the off-kilter song arrangements; for every pop-perfect track there's a slice of raw darkness ("Bluebell") casual introspection ("Augustine") or sidereal rock-tronica ("The Stars"). Less a dramatic reinvention than a sideways turn into the world of adult emotions and mainstream accessibility, The Magic Position is nonetheless Patrick Wolf's most accomplished work to date. --Paul Sullivan
Review by James Christopher Monger
Brooding, multi-talented indie prince Patrick Wolf lets a little sunshine in on his third full-length album, the undeniably catchy but highly unstable The Magic Position. Released in 2005, Wind in the Wires struck a nice balance between eerie British folk-inspired imagery/instrumentation and general home-recorded electronic cacophony. It was a deeply personal, slightly guarded, and occasionally brutal slice of brain tissue that promised great things from the young singer/violinist. That skull is open to the public on The Magic Position, and while the results can be a little spotty, the exhibit itself is impossible to ignore. Wolf is blissfully unafraid of pomp and circumstance, an observation lent weight by the pulse-quickening opener, "Overture." With its refrain of "Come on, open wide and let some light in," it's the perfect litmus test for potential listeners, as what follows is essentially the equivalent of a walk in the rain with the sun peeking out and the umbrella in the trash. The songs are more vibrant and confident (even danceable) than anything he's released in the past. The title cut, with its mechanical Motown-inspired backbeat and strings, avoids the twee-soul of Belle & Sebastian by hinging on Wolf's deep baritone. It, like much of the record, juggles irony and hope with lust and love in a way that dismisses the opinions of the masses without insulting them. That occasionally barbed baritone is what keeps Wolf with one foot so firmly planted in the dark and, like late-'80s Depeche Mode, it's the juxtaposition between the two worlds that keeps things so interesting. The Magic Position loses a little focus near the end, but flashes of inspired lunacy like the jarring arrival of a spectral Marianne Faithfull on the spooky "Magpie" help to make this unpredictable collection of Victorian-peaked electro/folk-pop so hard to dislike.
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