As Russell’s many aliases were making themselves known on New York City dance floors, Russell himself was doing all kinds of other things. There is a series of playful, intricately composed “Instrumentals.” There is the almost medievally austere Tower of Meaning. There are also — almost unbelievably — country songs. Audika Records’ latest Arthur Russell compilation — there have been three others — Love Is Overtaking Me, is split between sweet, jangly, ’80s pop and country songs. Russell’s voice is usually processed through all kinds of reverb, but here, left on its own, it has a kind of flat warmth that is perfectly suited to heartland tunes. On “Close My Eyes” and “Maybe She,” Russell even sounds a little like — I really never thought I would be writing this — James Taylor or John Denver. This is not to say that Love Is Overtaking Me is a collection of masterpieces (it isn’t; some of these songs are silly), but Russell’s versatility is a little scary. Near the end of Wild Combination, we’re told that there are still hundreds of Russell tapes lying in storage facilities, and one could go crazy imagining the new Arthur Russell genre experiments waiting to be unearthed. What’s next? A collaboration with Black Sabbath? Rap?
To a certain extent, however, these are curiosities and add-ons. Russell wrote and recorded his most significant work with his voice and cello. A track called “This is How We Walk on the Moon” occupies the middleground between Russell’s avant-garde solo work and his earlier dance music. It starts out with an unaccompanied cello figure on the verge of distraction. He doesn’t dig into the strings. He plays across their surfaces, allowing wisps and overtones to play loosely across what turns out to be a strong, almost funky rhythmic core. Russell’s singing, when it comes in, is highly intuitive. His voice chases bits of inspiration. His enunciation is fluid, words dissolving and reconstructing themselves all the while (the main lyric is, “Every step is moving me up”). Halfway through, the melodic semi-improvisation stops and Russell’s voice suddenly reappears, routed through a watery synthesizer and stacked up in imposing harmonic towers. It sounds wholly alien. This is why Russell’s life is so hard to align with his music. His country songs tell you that he’s from Iowa, and they’re right. But this stuff tells you that’s impossible, and it’s better music. (Don’t be distracted by the stupidly literal video.)
None of this really prepares one for Russell’s final album, World of Echo, a long, moving, meditative record that is surely his best. It’s more or less a diary of songs written for Russell’s long-time partner, Tom Lee. Russell’s lyrics are nearly unintelligible, which is fitting. One suspects that Lee knows what Russell is talking about. The album is loosely organized, and it unfolds at a relaxed pace. Songs may take up a verse-chorus structure and then abandon it to track down some resonant tone or phrase. The record wraps you up in a whole system of alchemical devices and improvisations; this is music to get lost in. When Russell starts singing clearly in the album’s final song, “Our Last Night Together,” the shock of intelligibility registers with all the more force. He sings, “Although you’re coming back, it’s our last night together,” and there is a heartbreaking poignance to the fact that he only starts to pronounce the words as the relationship comes to an end.
