Alpha Cat’s new album Thatched Roof Glass House is a contradiction in terms from the title on down to the songs. It is a mélange of the old and the new that butts up against each other in creative friction. There is a feeling of a distressed emotional permanence that lurks in the background, hovering like a specter that you just know is there outside the frame. The phrases that indicate this appear to be flying from all directions from the singer and songwriter Elizabeth McCullough’s emotive vocals. Every turn of phrase seems to be a parry or thrust in some long-playing fencing with the opposite sex. The issue is in the end that every time you fence and thrust and parry there will inevitably be a winner and loser. I think I can tell from this couplet what Alpha Cat thinks of the situation. “I’ve fallen into a black hole, looked like your heartfelt like my soul, now I’ve got nowhere to go from this side out”.
There is a bleakness in that song Black Hole that defines the very essence of an artist struggling with the idea of producing art. Couple these ideas with fine production and playing by New York City and elsewhere based musicians like Chris Butler of the Waitresses, and Fred Smith of Television and you have a dense and challenging record to explore. The one time that Alpha Cat makes it easier on the listener is in the gorgeous Mona Lisa in a Comic Book. Still retaining some of the soul-searching examination that the other tunes exhibit this one comes in a rousing and melodic package that is the tune on this record that you can tap your toes to, snap your fingers and have an ironic smile cross your face a time or two. There have been other records that have come and gone from this artist, but this one feels like it can be a permanent part of the NYC musical neighborhood.
