An Essential Guide to Neko Case

Published Jul 05, 2016

4. The New Pornographers

Mass Romantic

(2000)

Without Neko Case, there would be no Mass Romantic, and without Mass Romantic there would be no New Pornographers. That may sound like a crazy thing to say about an album that, by all accounts, started off serendipitously with impromptu recording sessions, on which Case contributed a handful of lead vocals and some backup vocals on her friends' tunes, yet there it is. The skyrocketing success of Mass Romantic (and the New Pornographers albums that followed) led to a vital and enduring power-pop institution few could have predicted.

She was already known to be a powerful singer — still, it was a revelation to hear Case kick off the album with such effortless-sounding swagger on the title track, a charming hint of a de-twanged accent (she was born in Virginia, but has lived all over) slightly softening the laser-like efficiency of her performance. Her near-lead (or co-lead) vocals on "The Slow Descent into Alcoholism" and "To Wild Homes" are stellar, but it's the absolutely frenetic "Letter from an Occupant" that's most addictive. On the song, Case sounds like a gum-chewing waitress from some futuristic version of the '50s humorously delivering a weighty message. Try not to hit repeat on that one.

3. Middle Cyclone

(2009)

2. Blacklisted

(2002)

Exclaim!'s 2002 folk album of the year, Blacklisted, is a Case classic; it's absolutely essential. Her third album, and first without her Boyfriends, Case took on most of the songwriting for the first time here, and with help from the Goods, Howe Gelb and Calexico's Joey Burns and John Convertino, she perfected the haunted alt-country noir mood hinted at on her early records. With lots of electric and acoustic tenor guitars, baritone guitar, steel guitar, pump organ and cello, the songs are decadently dark and beautifully scary, providing a sympathetic backdrop for Case's torchy performances.

It's relatively early in her career, yet Case sounds weary, worldly and experienced. Original standouts include "Things That Scare Me," "Deep Red Bells," "Pretty Girls" and "Lady Pilot," on which Case sings she's "not afraid to die." She does a sultry version of "Look for Me (I'll Be Around)" and an impressive cover of "Runnin' out of Fools" but actually, it's her own "I Wish I Was the Moon" that is most haunting, like she's written her own Neil Young classic.

1. Furnace Room Lullaby

(2000)

Without a doubt, Neko Case's Furnace Room Lullaby is a melancholic masterpiece of a sophomore album. In retrospect, she was probably still trying to emulate the country greats — her heroes — but for an entire generation, it was (and still is) a template of a perfect breakup record. Or rather, a "stoking the furnace with your entire past so that you can move on" kind of record. "I'm in the mood to burn bridges," she sings on "Mood to Burn Bridges."

Furnace Room Lullaby

covers love, yes, and it has the best kind of gut-wrenching love songs on it, but it also touches on roots and identity: "I can't even tell you where I'm from," Case sings on "Guided by Wire," while "Thrice All American," probably the most singalong-able Neko Case song ever, is a celebration of her scrappy hometown, Tacoma. She tackles grief on "South Tacoma Way," which feels wistful and real, never clichéd yet totally universal.

Recorded in Vancouver, Toronto and Chicago, with Her Boyfriends, Furnace Room Lullaby has strong ties to Canada: Bob Egan, Kevin Kane, Carl Newman, Ford Pier and the Goods play on it. Ron Sexsmith and Don Kerr play on it, too, and even helped write two of the best tracks (the beautiful "Porchlight" and classic "We've Never Met"). It was the second and last time that Case made a country album hewing closely to the standard form and with lots of co-writes; you can already hear her drifting and deepening towards what would become her sound on Blacklisted.

She wasn't gonna repeat it, though, and that's fine — it remains spectacular.

The Worse Things Get, the Harder I Fight, the Harder I Fight, the More I Love You

(2013), is hard-won, redemptive and personal. The songs come from a vulnerable place, written over a time that Case lost both her parents (who she wasn't very close to) and her grandmother (who she was). It's a synthesis of themes from throughout her career, and the production is beautiful. And it's not all mellow: "Man" proves that Case's sting is intact, maybe even sharper than ever.