Kate Bush News

4 stars from Mathew French at The Alternative Review:

“it strains the limits of belief to think that she’s still able after all of these years to churn out material worthy of note, let alone albums that challenge her heyday masterpieces. But lo and behold: 50 Words For Snow is just as focused, creative, and emotionally conscious as her best albums … Bush just refuses to fall victim to age. At 54 years old her vocals sound a bit burly, taking on a much deeper tone than that of her older wails, but they only helps to service 50 Words For Snow in a positive way. Her voice is very sentimental and comforting here, almost as if she’s singing to us from inside a log cabin in the middle of a dead, cold night — clad in warm garments with a woollen cover draped over her by the fire as she recalls tales of love and loss. … Forsaking grandiosity in favor of snow-inflected landscapes, 50 Words For Snow is essentially Bush’s provocation for wintry surrealism. The songs have a slow, meditative tempo and revolve (mostly) around crisp piano, Bush’s warm vocals, and delicate percussion. More than anything though, 50 Words For Snow works well as something minimal; unlike other releases, Bush really fixates on the inclusion of negative space to make way for drafty ambiance. These songs aren’t aimless in their approach though: they sometimes burst into small sections of unadulterated bliss – just enough to satisfy a craving for emotional fulfilment...”

Donna Gorey at the Manc Review:

“an album, whose narrative singing and enchanting concept, creates post-modernistic storytelling, reaffirming Kate as an original and experimental artist … a classic album, which nurtures the perpetual willo-the wisp spirit of Kate. Although it takes a few listens to completely appreciate the album, it thinks outside the box, containing a haunting beauty which sends chills down the spine. Its picturesque music, whose orchestral and stripped down acoustics, glide effortlessly across an intense, emotional backdrop. Like snow, on a hillside, “50 Words For Snow”, melts subtly revealing a lush core at its own organic pace.”

Album of the week from Ron Hart at Dirty Impound:

“Though the album title sounds like something conjured up by a cocaine-obsessed rapper like Young Jeezy or Ghostface Killah for his next mixtape banger, it serves as a fitting description for the thematic direction of Kate’s label debut on the Anti- imprint. These seven epic compositions explore the sensual tundra of winter’s effects on the heart, mind and loins … There are indeed no words to truly describe the enchanting pulchritude of 50 Words for Snow, except for hailing it as the loveliest work of Kate’s sparse but uncompromising career.”

4/5 from Alex Hall at The Tune:

“For an artist who has recorded for over 30 years, simply staying relevant is no slight feat. For Kate Bush relevancy is not an issue, because 50 Words for Snow molds her body of work just as effectively as some of her great ’80s albums. … and while she plays with the concept more subtly in some songs it is still always present. Snow is what unites this album when it threatens to dismantle itself … 50 Words for Snow finds the measure of its success in how well it can sustain that atmosphere … my appreciation of the album had less to do with the songwriting and more to do with its artistic situation. The listener cannot always be enveloped in a perfect world of falling snow, but for the times when nature would seem to beckon him to imagine it … this record transports him completely. The contrast between Bush’s dark, rich vocals and virginal snow is immense. To emphasize it more these recordings include young, high-range male voices, including Bush’s son Albert, who sings with the beauty only something as transitory as snow could represent … Piano dominates this album, which not only makes it a more gentle work but also helps Bush extend her “art rock” persona to jazz and classical music … That’s another thing: none of these tracks could exist by themselves, both because of the similarity of their content and their length. It’s a treat when an artist releases something so cohesive, because the listener’s only option is to sit down with the record and play it from top to bottom … In my mind 50 Words for Snow was an imagined concert after a long spell of looking out my window to see snow depopulating the streets and sidewalks … Something like this is so perfect now, because an album about snow translates well when there’s actual snow around. In passing time, when months get warmer and drier, I fear that this record may not mean as much. However, it could be that whatever the weather, 50 Words for Snow stands a perfect isle of seclusion, where one can always retreat to when the air gets too sticky or the music too loud.”

7/10 from Dan Retro/Active:

“an interesting album. On one hand, there’s isn’t anything that blows you away, but for what it is aiming for, to be an album in the backdrop of snow, it nails the theme. But it’s also not the most exciting album, with a lack of contrast, and if you’re looking for a pop hit, I don’t know of any that clock over 6 minutes besides Bohemian Rhapsody. The album is solid though, and pleasant nonetheless.”

Steve Knopper at Newsday:

“a song about getting it on with a snowman … one of several jarring, unpredictable moments on veteran British singer-songwriter and pop experimentalist Kate Bush’s second album of 2011 … Frequently the spacey piano arrangements, stately backup choir and Elton John cameo … give these seven long songs a certain ethereal beauty. But the album contains too many interminable clunkers, like the repetitive eight-minute title track…”

Honor Clement-Hayes at Howl:

“As one of Stephen’s 10 squillion Twitter followers, I felt like I’d got the inside scoop when he announced that he was recording with Kate Bush. I wasn’t, obviously. But I felt like I’d discovered an incredible secret. That’s kind of how I feel when I listen to this album. It’s like entering someone’s head when they aren’t looking and swimming around in their thoughts. Kate’s music has always felt very close and intimate, like she’s whispering in your ear, singing just for you … She’s over 50 now, but THAT VOICE is still childlike and playful and it’s just a complete delight to hear in this time of Beiber and Chipmunk and all the other thousand dead-faced clones. Robber’s Veil. Ankle Breaker. Simmer Glisten. Deep and Hidden. Bad for Trains. Vanishing World. Lose yourself in this album for a while, and leave it feeling refreshed and separated from the loud reality of life.”

Robun Simpson in his Cultural Dessert:

“Those of us who grew up fascinated by Kate Bush’s voice would probably be happy to listen to her reading the telephone directory. We get close to this on her new album … a quiet, contemplative collection of songs, mostly accompanied by gentle piano chords. It’s a beautiful work, despite continuing to sail mischievously close to self-parody … Much as I have been enjoying ‘Ceremonials’, the new album from Florence + The Machine … it is no substitute for the real thing. More please!”

Another five stars from Rory Williamson at the Cambridge Varsity:

“50 Words for Snow – the very idea is excessive, superfluous, even ridiculous, but this is precisely the kind of material from which only Kate Bush can create a masterpiece. As seven songs slowly unfurl for over an hour on the topic, the listener is left only with a strengthened sense of Bush’s uncanny ability to form an inhabitable world in an album … a welcome reminder of the songwriter’s lauded ability to juggle the sublime and the ridiculous … Lyrical playfulness is second nature for Bush, but 50 Words for Snow achieves cohesiveness across its seven tracks between even the most disparate ideas. It is a landscape populated by lost figures: the “lonely” Yeti of ‘Wild Man,’ the vanishing snowman of ‘Misty,’ the woman’s spirit crying out for her dog on ‘Lake Tahoe.’ For all of its light-heartedness, the title track’s endless synonyms point to the ephemeral fragility of snow that the record explores throughout: nothing here can be pinned down, as lovers have to separate, the animated snowman melts and the snowflake given voice on the opener proves impossible to find. The frozen landscape, for all its beauty, is harsh; it separates, confounds and ultimately disappears as quietly as it came … the work of a consummate artist who can simultaneously engage with her inherent whimsy and divorce herself from it, producing something both otherworldly and disarmingly, invitingly human.”