Review: David Olney and Anana Kaye Craft the Perfect Final Act on 'Whispers and Sighs'
The first time I saw David Olney live wasn't in a club or a music festival. It was at the Southern Festival of Books and, while he did bring out his guitar to play a few songs, the majority of his set was dedicated to dramatic, and from memory, recitations of long passages from Samuel Taylor Coleridge's epic poem “Rime of the Ancient Mariner.” While I got to see him a number of other times in a more traditional and musical setting, that first impression was the best one. Despite his status as a well-respected songwriter in the roots music world, Olney was always a literary writer whose stories happened to pair well with a guitar; more Tennessee than Hank Williams. On Whispers and Sighs, completed less than 24 hours before his death at the 30A Songwriter's Festival, Olney finds a duet partner who is just as dedicated to musical poetry, Shakespearean tragedy, and the art of the story as himself; Anana Kaye.
A promising young songwriter from Nashville but originally from Georgia (Eastern European, not Peach State), Kaye and her husband and musical partner Irakli Gabriel not only complement Olney's unique songwriting style but enhance it in some places. The trio, along with co-writer John Hadley, have crafted a set of songs that bounce effortlessly from gentle ballads to tragic stories of loss to full-throated blue collar rock and roll.
The song getting the most attention on the album is “My Favorite Goodbye.” Not surprising, considering Olney's passing adding extra context, but would have likely been a highlight in any case. In typical Olney form, the song isn't content to just tell the tale of a lost love, but also bringing in a lost soul, a condemned man, and a “fading note in a children's melody.” The song finds the balance between despair and hope, pairing “she took everything but time” with “time takes everything but love.”
The true high point of the album, though, is in the darkly comic “The Great Manzini (Disappearing Act).” In it, as stage conjurer finds himself so engrossed in his career, the one thing he made disappear permanently was his family. With a chanted intro from Kaye, Olney takes advantage of a voice somewhat faded by years to truly let the audience feel the magician's weariness. “Making her vanish into thin air, that was easy my friend. But I was never able to learn how to bring her back again,” Olney intones flatly. The lack of emotion in the delivery of his verses is devastating, and a testament to Olney as the actor. “This city's under quarantine... and I can never leave,” he croons near the end of the song, with no idea just how prophetic those words would be just two months later. It is not only the best song on Whispers and Sighs, it is arguably the best song of Olney's long career. “Finding the truth in magic? Even I can do that now. Finding the magic in truth? Only a fool knows how.”
Another highlight, and the best feature for Kaye, is the rocker “The Last Days of Rome.” It's an outlier for the album in many ways. By far the most electric of the songs, it works for two reasons. The first is Kaye, who throws everything she has at it, sounding a bit like Chrissie Hynde fronting The E Street Band. The second is, underneath the driving rock soundtrack is the same literary thread throughout, noting how societies never truly learn from history, hinting not so subtly at our current society that looks a bit like the historic fall of one of humanity's great empires. “We came here for the diamonds and the golden fleece... but if they ask, it's all about peace.” The song also features a spoken mid-song breakdown from Olney that approaches a rap.
Not familiar with Kaye's own work, I don't know what her voice sounds like normally and Whispers and Sighs is no help in that regard. Instead, Kaye proves herself a strikingly talented vocal chameleon. Aside from channeling Hynde as previously referenced, in other places she nails a classic country whisper (“Tennessee Moon”), a slinky lounge singing femme fatale (“Whispers and Sighs”) and a nod to her European roots (“Thank You Note.”)
Because of the timing, Whispers and Sighs is always going to be seen as David Olney's swan song, despite no indication it was ever anything of the kind. Moreso, it feels like the passing of a torch. No songwriter is ever going to match David Olney's ability to craft folk songs about Greek mythology or Romantic era tragedies and make them accessible enough to play in a beer hall. But in Anana Kaye and Irakli Gabriel, Olney may have found the pair most willing to give it a try.