by Carmel Lurito

After a string of stunning albums, Neil Finn has emerged alone, together with no one this time. We've come to expect so much of this man -- in a word, perfection. He's never failed to deliver on that score (excepting "Kill Eye" and a handful of other songs, of course.) So would this new album live up to those admittedly high standards, or should we abandon our previous conceptions and judge Try Whistling This on its own merits?

Following months of tantalizing anticipation, release day arrived. I ran from the record store to my car to experience the first sounds of TWT. The opening strains of the exquisite "Last One Standing" came pulsing out of my speakers and I was instantly swept away into Neil's world. "And our finest days have come" indeed! Neil's undeniable gift for atmosphere and melody were evident as he drove into the first chorus, "And you are magnificent." My heart swelled into my throat. I smiled to myself and said, "My Neil is back."

What strikes me about the album is the imagery, the textures, the different styles, changing moods and tempos, and the wicked experimentation Neil has embarked upon. We have the sarcastic and bitter "Souvenir," a jab at the hangers-on that must plague Neil, taking their pound of flesh with no concern for the human being behind the pop star image. Are we to be counted among that group of hunters and collectors? Even with that somber context, Neil summons up the kind of gentle swaying hook that you can't get out of your head.

Neil explores his old friends, spirituality, desire, and relationships on many of the songs, managing to find lyrical nuances he has never hit on before. "King Tide," a bit of a mover, reminds us that we are all driven to satisfy human needs and desires, and that any attempt at repression just serves to make them stronger. The achingly beautiful title track is a tale of two relationships, both of a desperate quality. The first is ego-centered but passionate; the second, violent and abusive, and ultimately lonely. Then Neil soars into his vision for a relationship, drawing from the same well as "Nails in My Feet" and "Message to My Girl" to find imagery and passion unparalleled anywhere on the album.

The intensity subsides for "She Will Have Her Way," magnificent, back-to-basics, classic, sing-along, Finn pop. It's "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" meets "Cecilia." The ending took me back to the Finn Bros. show and "In Love With It All" with its jangling acoustic guitars and soaring harmonies. You can almost hear Tim coming through Neil's voice. It's a masterful song, and remarkably easy to whistle.

"Sinner" is the core and peak of the album. It has all the traits of classic Neil -- the hook, the voice, the lyrics and melody -- all wrapped up into an experimental little package that works on every level. It is a singularly unique song in the Finn catalogue. The lyrics on their face seem to point to Neil walking away from faith, but I believe this is the testament of a man who found his faith once he walked away from the chains of his religious upbringing and got reconnected. It's a deeply personal song with none of the venom of "There Goes God." There's a lot to love about this song, and so many layers both lyrically and musically that it'll be a long time before I've explored it to its core.

On "Twisty Bass," Neil leaves out nothing except the fabled 'kitchen sink' to bring on the noise and the funk, and push the envelope lyrically and musically. Crank it up! Its cousin, "Loose Tongue" (at least tongues didn't share the same fate as kitchens on this record, Thank God!) seems to just scream as a reference to the break up of Crowded House. Are we supposed to sense regret here, or feel comforted by his notion of a well of goodwill?

I love the sound of Neil speaking his "Truth." It strongly reminded me of my favorite Tim Finn song, "Persuasion." I believe it's a message to his children. The first verse seems to be written from his sons' points of view, looking to their dad for guidance. Don't be fooled by the apparently simple bromide, "Truth is worth more than pride." Neil is speaking from a deeply personal level, with a modesty and self-consciousness that makes me appreciate his honesty more than his genius for melody.

Neil explores spirituality again on "Astro" and "Dream Date." After a number of listens, "Astro" has seeped into my consciousness and I find myself singing it frequently throughout the day. I felt more wishy-washy about it initially, but once it bores into your soul, you can't help but love the song. "Dream Date" would be a perfect little song if it stopped at about the 2:30 mark, instead of going on for minutes more. The most amazing thing about that song for me is that Neil is clearly channeling John Lennon, and it's nice to hear John again. I was a big fan. I have noticed that among male members of the Crowded House mailing list, "Astro" seems to be a big favorite, while females tend to be more accepting of "Dream Date." As a psychologist, I have been trying to analyze these gender differences. As a bad psychologist, I have come to no conclusions whatsoever.

"Faster Than Light" has a soothing chorus, very akin to early solo McCartney. It inspired me to close my eyes and meditate while listening. This enhanced my enjoyment of this song, but boy! do I wish Neil had picked up the pace ever so slightly. TWT closes with "Addicted," another pretty but somber song. Neil never lifts us back up, but leaves us to wallow a bit, treading water in his sea of emotion and imagery.

TWT is an album of countless layers, which could lead us to overanalyze the content. This takes the fun out of it for me. Even after close to 40 or more consecutive listens, I wonder why I haven't grown tired of it. Something draws me back, even when I doubt I really like it at times. Maybe it's the intricacies of Neil's songwriting, which are never-ending and awe-inspiring. I don't know how he can continually surprise me like he does. Even when you think he's getting predictable, he throws you a curve, "the chiming of a perfect chord." Throughout TWT, Neil's voice is breathtaking. It keeps getting more subtle and expressive with each album.

Neil seems to be striving to distance himself throughout the album from his past -- the religion, the bands, the fame, and the expectations of his fans -- to plant himself firmly in the present. He has found new avenues for his creativity, in musical styles and tools that can expand the way he chooses to express the emotions and sentiments that became so captivating in all of the work he did with Split Enz and Crowded House before. We owe it to Neil to take all of his solo work at face value, and not make the unfair comparisons to his prior endeavors. The flashes, one could even say the lightning storm, of brilliance evidenced on Try Whistling This make me yearn to hear more. The richness and textures of his music, the way it makes you feel as if you are outdoors in a spacious place, all of these things are unique to Neil's work. And he has created another sterling example of what music could be if only musicians were not forced to cheapen their art, gearing it toward the bottom line in some music executive's ledger. I am impressed with the consistent devotion to quality that Neil has maintained over his 20 years in the industry, and that he found this audience who appreciates his gift so much. He has given me so much happiness over the years, I could never adequately repay the debt. I can't wait to tell him so in person when he comes State-side this month.