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It says something about the multilayered qualities of Canadian songwriter Kaia Kater’s fourth album, Strange Medicine, that it’s hard to know where to start when writing about it. You could start with the soulful singing or the effortless combination of the political and the personal in the lyrics. Or you could start with the music, the elements of sweet, soulful pop, Appalachian folk, psychedelia. But the whole record has such an organic, complete feel to it that it deserves to be written about with, for want of a better term, holistic focus. Strange Medicine thrives on difference and synthesis.
That synthesis is brought to bear on the two opening tracks: Witch, with its combination of shuffling groove and flighty, flutey psych-soul and the banjo-led Maker Taker. The first is like some lost Rotary Connection classic, while the second is steeped in old-timey back-porch tradition, but such is Kater’s control of her material and her distinctive voice that there is nothing incongruous about the juxtaposition: her songs flow freely from one state to another. Backed by Americana legend Aoife O’Donovan, Witch, for all its musical breeziness, tells a morally loaded tale of the women burned as witches in 17th-century Salem. And Maker Taker, folky as it is, takes aim at contemporary consumer culture and its negative effects on the creative industries. Kater’s muse flows through history as well as between musical genres.
The thematic thread that enables this fluidity to thrive is the idea that oppression has existed – and has been fought against – throughout history. It might be the oppression of women or of non-white people, but everywhere, Kater picks it apart, analyses it, and combats it with intelligent rage. She is preoccupied with stories, and she uses those stories to give voice to people who have been historically silenced. On Fédon – which features Taj Mahal as a guest musician – she tackles the subject of the anti-colonial revolutionary uprising in Grenada, the island where her father was born. She invents a haunted feminist folktale on Often As The Autumn, and sings it to a sweet, ancient-sounding melody over a disconcerting drone.
Kaia Kater began her musical career as a banjo player, and has recently returned to it after a time of experimentation with other instruments. But she brings a diverse set of influences to her playing, most notably the extended repetitions of Steve Reich. This becomes apparent on songs like In Montreal, a deeply personal tale set to an adroit, looping banjo and high, piercing fiddle. The Internet builds an indelible melody over simple fingerpicked patterns, interrupted partway through by disembodied, distorted voices. Another vehicle for Kater’s proficient musicianship, History In Motion situates personal experience in a wider universal context: she is not only a great musician, she is also a subtle and searching songwriter.
On the jazzy Floodlights, she channels Hejira-era Joni Mitchell, while closing track Tigers is not unlike a more impressionistic Paul Simon with hints of country and soul, but these comparisons fail to do justice to the weight of history and the sense of protest and emancipation that Kater bestows on even her most personal songs. Strange Medicine is her strongest, most diverse and most complete album to date, an angry, hopeful triumph from an utterly distinctive songwriter.
Strange Medicine is released on Free Dirt Records (17th May 2024): https://lnk.to/kaia-kater-strange-medicine
