Ezra Furman - Goodbye Small Head

English poet William Wordsworth once wrote: “Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquillity.” Songwriter and vocalist Ezra Furman agrees for the most part. Using Wordsworth’s words as a reference point, Furman positions their new album, Goodbye Small Head, as an admission of “completely losing control, whether by weakness, illness, mysticism, BDSM, drugs, heartbreak, or just living in a sick society with one’s eyes open.” That sentiment ebbs and flows across 12 untamable tracks that lurch from their perfectly poised place to get the listener enthralled and excited for their story.

Furman slices and mangles electric and organic shards together. It’s as though they’ve taken all the brokenness felt during the strongest heat of summer, only after the fact, and repurposed each teardrop or rage-filled tremble for some other endeavour. The vulnerability buried deep beneath textured layers of musical extravagance quivers in full-throttle volatility that Furman has somehow re-captured again. “The human mind is amazing,” she muses in “Power of the Moon.” She’s a bit unruly but always contemplative, enough to understand the striking power of lyrics that can frighten and entrance. It doesn’t matter if they’ve been here before, but their reflection has changed and drastically shifted places. They’re older now, more self-possessed, and far more willing to expose themselves for the world to see.

With “You Mustn’t Show Weakness,” Furman determines that weakness must be concealed, hidden away from the world. “You’ve got to have it together, whatever the weather,” they sing, as though through a funnel cloud of clunky folk and dream-like hallucinations. Only within the impenetrable sleep state can weakness serve an intention. The singer-songwriter fuses these ideas behind walls of sound that bounce between the cosmic and the earth-bound. “My tongue is tied forever, but always tied to you,” Furman sings barely above a whisper on “Veil Song.” Their inner torture blossoms into the songwriting mechanism that drives the album careening towards the sun.

It’s hard to imagine Goodbye Small Head arriving as Furman’s 10th studio album. It possesses the galvanized emotional metal of someone twice their age. They have perhaps lived lifetimes that have all melted into Furman’s bones, informing the music unlike anything they’ve accomplished before. When you finally vault into the finale with “A World of Love and Care” and “I Need the Angel,” every possible emotion erupts from somewhere deep inside. “Human dignity was supposed to be a guarantee for all,” they howl with a blood-curdling cry on the former.

Goodbye Small Head is far more than just another album. It’s a testament to Ezra Furman’s unmistakable songcraft that always seeks to capture the present moment. They’re angry, sad, and fearful - yet they push forward with the intention of their music touching someone, somewhere in space. That’s all we can hope for.

Ezra Furman – Official, Bandcamp, Facebook, Instagram, YouTube