Songs in My Head

It's hard for me to remember the last new artist I've jibed with as intensely as I do Madison Cunningham, the SoCal singer/songwriter/guitar hero I had the chance to write a bit about in America magazine this week. Joni, of course, but that was a belated catch-up with a master. Dirty Projectors, certainly. And before that—Rufus Wainwright? Elvis Costello? Sam Phillips? Cunningham is only 24, a year younger than Joni was when she released Song to a Seagull. But already, based on two full-length albums, two EPs, and a brace of engaging covers, she's already gunning for a place in the pantheon beside my personal bests, and I'm looking forward to a long career of watching her career unfold. (Her latest experiments are bracing, but I'm getting ahead of myself.)

I base my high estimation not only on her playful but utterly assured songcraft; her questing guitar work, in the vein of Jonny Greenwood or Jeff Buckley; a voice that bears the clear and salutary influence of the latter, as well as of Feist and Fiona Apple; or lyrics that, with few exceptions, are far more rich and evocative than they need, or have any right, to be. It's not even the religious background that occasionally surfaces in those lyrics, and which gave me grist for the America piece. But the combination of all of this in one person? Clearly there is a God, and she likes music.

Take this song from the EP Love, Lose, Remember: The Joni influence seems strong here, though I can also detect traces of Andrew Bird, if I'm looking. But the voice is all Cunningham's own, and the lyrics are wise beyond her years:

Or take this achingly perfect ballad from the same EP, which winds through some unexpected harmonies on its way to home truth:

Great as those songs are, both sell her stellar guitar playing a bit short—she is great on acoustic, but it's her work on her Jazzmaster electric that sets her apart from the pack and drives much of her best work (do not sleep on "Beauty Into Cliches"). I found this tutorial taking apart her sneakily catchy single "Pin It Down" jaw-dropping:

I could go on all day about this or that aspect of her work (for the already converted I highly recommend a listen to one of her first songs, recorded with her dad's praise band when she was maybe 14—you can already hear her unique voice, pretty much fully formed—as well as a watch of this fun recent interview with her about her music). But among many things I've noticed about her songcraft is her gift for endings. This is not something most songwriters spend a lot of time on—they might build to a big vocal finish, a tremolo, a ritard, and a flourish, or even add a nice instrumental tag. But few spend the time really crafting the perfect closer. Listen to what she does to conclude "Something to Believe In"—this isn't just a songwriter, this is a composer:

And finally, just listen to the musical punctuation with which she ends one of her best songs, the delicately cutting 6/8 shuffle "L.A. (Looking Alive)": A dissonant guitar figure chimes like a bad alarm clock as she repeats the insistent title phrase, followed by a buttoned-up little scale run and the gently mocking ping of a harmonic, like a microwave timer. Done!