Hounds of Love - Kate Bush

We have discussed Kate Bush's work on Culturazzi before, and here we are again - talking about the eccentric virtuoso from the UK. Kate Bush is an artist for all times, with her mad-hat antics, her spectacular music, her masterful use of language and metaphors. Hounds of Love started it all. Hounds of Love finds Bush at the peak of her powers, where she has stayed arguably since that time, if you discount the whole story (pun intended).

Kate Bush's brand of music might not appeal to everyone at the first listen. She is, to put it mildly, a quirky and eccentric singer and performer. Her videos throw you off-balance with their multi-cultural motifs and her singing does not follow any particular style. But deep beneath all the dramatic layers, you find an artist who simply loves performing, and uses music as the finest medium of expression.

The album is split into two sides. Side A is Hounds of Love, often described as containing "accessible pop songs" that are easy to like, with their thumping beats, and trademark Bush vocal acrobatics. Indeed that's true, the four big singles of this side are grand, heartbreaking, inspiring, and soul stirring. Each song is special in its own way: The Big Sky is like a song sung by an eager wide-eyed child creating a world of  his/her own, out of humdrum clouds, and the simple things life offers. The music is thumping folk full of life. 

'That cloud, that cloud - looks like Ireland,/ C'mon and blow it a kiss now./ But quick 'coz it's changing in the Big Sky/ It's changing in the Big Sky now.'

One of my personal favorites and a song that impresses with its intimacy is Cloudbusting. With military drumrolls, Kate Bush recalls the imprisonment of psychologist Wilhelm Reich through the eyes of his son, Peter. Reich is the inventor of the cloudbuster, and although the song is narrative-driven, the emotion Kate puts into the song makes it a song that any kid, however old, can relate to, remembering the good times with his or her parents. The driving drumbeat throughout the song, the chanting chorus, the cello -- all energise and bring vitality to the song.

Cloudbusting is a song about memories shared between children and parents, the helplessness of the masses in front of authority and how time forces us to bury our childhood. “You’re like my yo-you/ that glows in the dark/ what made it special/ made it dangerous/ so I bury it/ and forget. One of the more well-known songs of this side is Running Up the Hill - covered over the years by a plethora of artists (the Placebo cover is brilliant too!). Bush explains the context of the song well: "I was trying to say that, really, a man and a woman, can't understand each other because we are a man and a woman. And if we could actually swap each other's roles, if we could actually be in each other's place for a while, I think we'd both be very surprised! And I think it would lead to a greater understanding. And really the only way I could think it could be done was either... you know, I thought a deal with the devil, you know. And I thought, 'well, no, why not a deal with God!' You know, because in a way it's so much more powerful - the whole idea of asking God to make a deal with you."

Once you are done with the rambunctious and energetic of Side A, move on to Side B - a veritable masterpiece, poetry admixed skilfully with music. Side B is called The Ninth Wave after Tennyson's poem: 'Wave after wave, each mightier than the last,/ Till last, a ninth one, gathering half the deep/ And full of voices, slowly rose and plunged/ Roaring, and all the wave was in a flame.'

The songs on this side provide a lyrical narrative to the dreams and hallucinations of a woman lost at sea, presumably keeping alive holding on to a plank, waiting to be rescued. In interviews, Bush has talked about how each song is about the feelings and emotions that the woman goes through, holding for dear life, as wave after wave lashes her, and in the desolate cold of the ocean, her life slowly runs past in front of her eyes.

The side starts with Dream of Sheep -- where Kate's voice echoes across a dark lonely ocean, voices floating over radio waves intermingle with voices lost inside the drowning woman's head. The woman is struggling between weary tiredness drifting her slowly to sleep, and a desire to think about "friendly voices talking about stupid things" which will keep her from sleeping. The last minute is stunning in its heartbreaking intimacy, dreaming of a home, of sleep, and yet knowing icy death awaits you if you let sleep win.

The next song - Under Ice is about the woman slowly losing consciousness and sinking, into the deep water. Here, the woman starts dreaming of her childhood, skating over ice and carving little lines on the ice. The lyrics are then self-explanatory:

There's something moving under/ Under the ice/ Moving under ice – through water/ Trying to get out of the cold water. "It's me".

What follows is another tour de force from Bush, Waking the Witch - voices telling the drowning women, to get up, wake up, see the little light. It's this call to action which explains to the listener, that the woman will struggle, thrash her hands about, and rise from the water. The second half of the song, a swashbuckling romp filled with sonic trickery and chanting hypnotic choruses re-energise the listener, and presumably the woman lost at sea. The song concludes with the sound of a helicopter and a voice shouting out - "Get out of the water".

Jig of Life is exactly what the title implies - a romp through the grand spectacle that is life. Shouting to the woman, to make that final push, to survive against the raging seas, and let herself "live". The pipes, the whistles, the bagpipes, all splashes of the water, relentlessly pushing the woman to win.

Can't you see where memories are kept bright?/ Tripping on the water like a laughing girl./ Time in her eyes is spawning past life,/ One with the ocean and the woman unfurled.

The ordeal of the woman takes a turn for the worse, as she fights for dear life, in Hello Earth. It is a song for Earth, for our symbiotic relationship with Mother Earth, our sheer powerlessness in front of nature's fury and grandeur. The woman remembers the experience of the storm taking her under water, as if watching from above the earth the storm form over America, and taking her ship down into the water.

All you sailors (Get out of the waves, get out of the water) All life-savers (Get out of the waves, get out of the water) All you cruisers (Get out of the waves, get out of the water) All you fishermen Head for home Go to sleep little earth, I was there at the birth, Out of the cloud burst the head of the Tempest, Murderer, Murderer, of calm, Why did I go? Why did I go? Go to sleep little earth.

The heroine is now emotionally and physically exhausted, remonstrating herself for leaving on that ship, wanting to sleep, and imploring little Earth, to be calm, and sleep with her. Towards the end of the song, Kate whispers in German - "Deep. Deep. Somewhere in the darkness, there is light." This is admittedly, the lowest point in the entire album - desolate, lonely, leaving even the listener exhausted, now one with the character lost at sea.

The Ninth Wave concludes with the simple beauty of The Morning Fog, as the woman is rescued and gets a second life, reborn as a new person - gaining a new appreciation for the simple beauty of life. After all the darkness of the night, she sees light.

"I am falling And I'd love to hold you now, I'll kiss the ground I'll tell my mother I'll tell my father I'll tell my loved one I'll tell my brothers How much I love them. "

It's these simple and heartwarming lines that define Bush's spirit for me. And hence concludes Kate Bush's epic masterpiece. At once weaving poetry skillfully with music, and creating art that elemental and child-like in its innocence and beauty, where each note and each line proves how life-affirming and beautiful Bush as an artist truly is. This is my pick for one of the best music album of the last century.

Listen to a track from the album here: