Three years ago, Lawrence Greenwood tore down the music realm of Whitley he had created. Being Whitley had become unbearable; his demons manifested in harsh self-judgment of every public performance, review and interview. So, Whitley went abroad in search of something, someone… himself.
In his triumphant return, Even The Stars Are A Mess, Whitley builds his world anew.
As he sings in opening track ‘ The Ballad of Terence McKenna’, “It is not a mean world/it’s beautiful/ I’ve seen it” And now we see it too.
This third offering effortlessly catches the imagination as Whitley builds his world organically from the inside out.
Even The Stars Are A Mess is the result of multiple journeys – both external and internal. Sparked by a drunken spontaneous phone call to his label from the heart of Mexico, Whitley began the long trek back to his musical homeland. The new album was written and recorded through numerous countries-
Havana to Cuba, Panama to London, Peru to Tuscany, before returning to heartland Melbourne. However, the elusive elements that would explode like the Big Bang were in no way limited to these geographical points. Internally, Whitley’s journey mirrored his worldly cavorting—freewheeling from extreme excitement to total boredom, dark despair to divine inspiration.
First single ‘
My Heart Is Not A Machine', draws on the existential journey that led to construct the new world of Whitley, piece by piece. The captivating voice that enamoured fans in The Submarine and Go Forth, Find Mammoth is now entwined with a new structure that is all together stronger, more alive, and complete. Even The Stars Are A Mes bears a soft, mechanical heart at its core; a world created by nature, but perfected by science and technology. From the satirical tale of a life lived through ‘ TV’, to the down-tempo darkness of ‘OK’ and the haunting ghosts of
Alone, Never Alone’, Whitley artfully builds his redemption. As the orchestral tone of Final Words’ lifts towards the crescendo of “this is just a dream”, Whitley reminds us that this new world is not as it seems. Whitley’s poetic turn of phrase and philosophical bent has come of age. His lyrics are the usual tales of love held aloft, love lost, love discarded and friends found; but his skeptical intelligence goes beyond these simple themes. He questions how human emotion contradicts modern science; adopts the ideologies of radical freethinker Terence McKenna and investigates his own existence as more than just an elementary cocktail of carbon atoms.
After all, even the stars are a mess. Whitley just creates a world of beauty from which to view them.
