This splendid album’s most powerful presence is a voice that isn’t used in any of the songs. It might be a surprising detail, akin to the riddles found in a Yuletide surprise; however, it’s factual. Linda Thompson, the acclaimed folk-rock artist from Scotland who’s nearing her 77th birthday, doesn’t lend her voice because she physically can’t. She’s been dealing with a condition named spasmodic dysphonia for over four decades, which made her rely on other artists to perform her 11 co-authored tracks for her fifth individual album. Thus, giving this album its title and inspiring the playful cover art where she’s seen wearing an ensemble akin to the one adorned by model Kari-Ann Moller on Roxy Music’s self-titled premiere album from 1972.
Fortunately, the list of substitutes includes her exceptionally skillful children, Teddy and Kami Thompson, along with several people from their collective. Presence of the Wainwright siblings, Rufus and Martha, can be felt in the songs, alongside The Unthanks, The Proclaimers, John Grant, and Eliza Carthy. Even Richard Thompson, her ex-husband, collaborates on the composition of Three Shaky Ships, a track that Rachel And Becky Unthank present with a fall-like allure.
The sour aftermath of the Thompsons’ split many years ago has mellowed down with time. It’s a relief that the music they produced as a duo — such as their masterpiece titled “I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight” — retains its charm.
In Proxy Music, the brilliance of Ms. Thompson’s lyrical ingenuity shines, embodying her sharp humour, intellect, and compassion. No matter the medley of performers and varying musical styles, her voice’s strength never gets overshadowed. It’s a testament to Teddy’s adept production skills, who manages to mould what might have been a chaotic mixture into a cohesive and persuasive creation. Simultaneously, he also co-creates and presents Those Damn Roches, a playful and fond enumeration of their extensive musical clan.
Kami, his sister, delivers performances that are far from subpar. In tracks like The Solitary Traveller and Mudlark, she croons with a confidence her mother might wish to have. Martha Wainwright’s piece, Or Nothing at All, echoes the vibes of her own mother, Kate McGarrigle; need I say more? The inclusion of John Grant’s self-penned and elegantly performed track adds a touch of strangeness and beauty to the album, endowing it with qualities that extensively illustrate the album as a whole.