Crafting compelling musical art occasionally feels like it should come easier during the peaks and valleys of our twenties than the less volatile and extreme moments of our forties, but Rufus Wainwright defies that notion with the gorgeously dramatic ‘Unfollow The Rules’ – an album that could only be created by someone who’s seen those peaks and valleys, survived them (sometimes quite barely), and lived to push and defy and challenge.
“I’m no Hercules, and this is Herculean,” he laments on the title track, “And tomorrow I’ll just be feeling the pain.” He continues, “Don’t give me what I want, just give me what I’m needing,” and amid one of the most exquisitely beautiful arrangements it’s a heartbreaking and sobering look at the cost of living, measured in careful consideration, a notion not accessible to most of us in our twenties, and a telling treasure map of all the places he’s already been.
Not that any definitive peace or resolution results from that awareness or resignation – see opening track ‘Trouble in Paradise’ – a lovely, languid jam that sounds as good as its tension-celebrating ambivalence conveys a shaky balance. Mr. Wainwright has always been a bit of a trickster in his work, shape-shifting and winking at every unexpected turn and key change. ‘Unfollow the Rules’ finds him endearingly in trickster mode, reminiscent of his very best work, now imbued with some hard-won wisdom, or at least the chuckle of acknowledging the occasional lack-thereof.
‘Romantical Manâ’ neatly addresses critics and all the accompanying heaps of detritus piled high on those daring to be “romantical” in such a cynical universe. ‘Peaceful Afternoon’ wryly describes thirteen years of a relationship – a feat for any two people to survive – and might be one of the greatest songs about marriage ever written. Magnificently capturing both the ennui and ever-changeable excitement that exist simultaneously in any long-term relationship, this ‘Afternoon’ is a lovely piece of music, taking flight and soaring with its strings and backing vocals, while positing whether the mundane can be beautiful, and why ever not?
Biting-humor and wicked-wit sharply-intact, ‘This One’s For the Ladies (THAT LUNGE!)’ finds Wainwright working through the search for peace and paradise as a harp weaves its luscious scales like golden threads into a wondrous land “where people listen to your plan” and “where no one stares at your face.” The Sondheim-celebrated ladies who lunch have always struck me as more than just socialites who have nothing but time and money on their hands; they seem more like unhappy, or at least slightly discontent, objects of beauty looking for purpose as much as for an escape. The meandering and queasy music personifies the ways we make such an escape.
Just when you think he may have it all figured out, or at least found a way to make some peace with all of it, he begins the glorious dirge of ‘Early Morning Madness’ which locates an early morning sadness where “I’m a perfect mess.” The only solution is to go back to bed until the dinner bell rouses him again. The battle with one’s own demons, addiction or otherwise, has never been more beautifully rendered than in this morning-after musing. The entire album leads up to this operatic highlight – a marvelous trough that holds its own dim beauty, and the solace of leaning into those moments of madness. Plunging exuberantly into the skittering strings and high drama of ‘Devils and Angels (Hatred)’, the song-cycle trio that ends the album embodies the richly-varied work that Wainwright has added to his impressive oeuvre in recent years.
Closing track ‘Alone Time’ reminds the world that sometimes Rufus and a piano is all we ever really needed to get away from it all, a very pleasant reminder in these perilous times. It’s also a call for some solitude at a time when we are all both connected and disconnected in so many ways – as much a need for an artist as for a husband as for a father and for a son. In crafting such a timely album, Wainwright has managed to make it timeless, the magic stroke of a genius artist in top form.