The Art of the Lie

Album review

"I have emotional whiplash," John Grant sings on The Art of the Lie. Considering how his songs swing from sardonic to confessional and back again, that's not an unusual response to his music. On his sixth album, however, he navigates ever-changing moods with more confidence and nuance than he did on Boy from Michigan. That record's drastic tonal shifts echoed how complex Grant's feelings about family and U.S. politics were and how they pushed his music to its limit; on The Art of the Lie, his explorations of betrayal and deception -- exemplified in his eyes by the hypocrisy and manipulation of the Christian right -- are more cohesive. They're also more specific: Grant homes in on the bottomless grief following the murder of a gay man on "Mother and Son," where Rachel Sermanni's caressing vocals lend a hint of solace. Like Boy from Michigan, The Art of the Lie's most personal tracks are among the most powerful. The processing on Grant's vocals doesn't detract from the gnawing ache of "Father," a remembrance of his childhood home that links all of the album's themes eloquently. On "Daddy," paternal love turns horrifying when he sings "There would always come a time/You'd deliver me to them/For what I am is a sin" over creeping synths. The pain in these songs feels more real, more tangible than on Grant's other albums, and it often bleeds into The Art of the Lie's satirical tracks. Anger and anguish are close to the surface on "Meek AF"'s squelchy funk, which pairs some of his most amusing imagery ("your spirit animal is a bulldozer") with some of his most dreadful (a true believer who drags his gay son behind his truck). Grant co-produced the album with Brigitte Fontaine and Grace Jones collaborator Ivor Guest, and the polish they bring to The Art of the Lie unites moments like the formidably fractured guitar solo that ends "The Child Catcher" and the satin sheen of "All That School for Nothing"'s strutting musings on wasted potential. It wouldn't be a John Grant album without some choice wordplay, and "Nothing"'s "I lost my patience several decades ago/Around the time i was in utero" is one of The Art of the Lie's pithiest turns of phrase along with "I've got the poise of a newborn giraffe" from "Marbles," a head-over-heels ballad that serves as the lone reminder that there are still some purely good things in this corrupt world. Though wit and sincerity have never been opposites in Grant's music, he's never brought them -- as well as beauty, cruelty, anger, and love -- together quite as potently as he does on The Art of the Lie's portraits of a society tearing itself apart.

© Heather Phares /TiVo