After Mark Linkous’ death by suicide in 2010, his brother Matt finished the Sparklehorse album in progress thought to be lost forever.
TW: Mentions of suicide
Mark Linkous, leader of Sparklehorse, died by suicide in 2010. He was 47.
His brother, Matt Linkous, believed the album Mark had been working on before his death had been lost forever. After tirelessly searching through archives, he found the unfinished tracks seven years later. He finished the album with the rest of his family and released “Bird Machine” early this September.
“What do you do with someone else’s art?” Matt said in one interview with The New York Times. “Music was so incredibly important to my brother. It saved him at times, and he meant every note. He did this stuff for people to hear. It needed to be out there.”
While Mark’s death gives the album more depth and meaning, what makes it more meaningful is that it turned “Bird Machine” into a family project. The additions that Matt, and Matt’s wife, Melissa made to the tracks are present throughout, as are the vocals of Spencer Linkous, their son.
Mark’s usual chunky-folk sound paired with his poetic lyricism is prevalent in past albums such as “It’s a Wonderful Life” and “Dreamt for Light Years In The Belly of A Mountain.” The new record paints a familiar picture for all Sparklehorse fans. Mark is no stranger to a dreary tune and depressing lyrics, but with the context behind the album, each lyric resonates more and every chord lingers a little longer. It’s impossible to know what was going through Linkous’ mind when he chose to cover Robyn Hitchcock’s “Listening to the Higsons,” in which he sings “I’m running out of living,” but it’s also impossible to ignore the choice.
Sparklehorse has always been good at pairing soul-crushing lyrics with a catchy upbeat tune. Listeners are often left tapping their foot along to songs like “I Fucked it Up” while analyzing lyrics like, “Well I coulda discovered a planet / But I didn’t want to hurt nobody’s feelings.” Sparklehorse’s music conveys an unexpected sadness that is sometimes confusing but enjoyable. It’s bizarre how his cryptic lyrics strike a chord with the right listener, but for those ready to receive them, they really connect.
Other songs on the album leave you completely devastated, including “O Child,” where Mark sings words of encouragement to his nephew, Spencer. A voicemail from a young Spencer plays at the end of the song over an eerie backing track: “Hi, Uncle Mark, What are you doing? I miss you. I love you. Bye-bye.” The song is truly devastating, and I don’t think I’ve yet been able to listen to it without tearing up. On the first listen, the sound is delicate, but Mark’s voice is almost desperate and the piano is furious. The whole thing is crushing and haunting.
This isn’t the first time a voicemail was used in a Sparklehorse song. In “Spirit Ditch,” on the debut Sparklehorse album “Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot,” Mark includes a message from his mother at the end of the song. I was so happy to hear Matt tie in this same element into this new record, as the found media adds so much to the track and makes it all the more personal.
Listening to the voicemails at the end of these songs makes me feel the same way I do when I call my family in Arizona. I’ve come to associate the fuzzy sound of a phone call with distance. I’m talking to them, I can hear them speaking to me, but as long as that distortion is there, I can sense the distance between us. Listening to “O Child,” I can sense that same distance between Spencer and Mark.
Before Mark’s death, in the midst of trouble in his marriage, he had moved from North Carolina to live with one of his bandmates in Tennessee. The song “Hello Lord” sheds some light on that experience. The lyrics depict a soldier at war questioning God’s existence. The mirroring of Mark’s longing for his wife with a story of a soldier at war missing someone they love emphasizes the struggles that came with his marital tumult of the time.
Mark’s struggles are voiced through the soldier, as he sings:
“I don’t want to hurt nobody / I don’t want to kill no one / I just wanna see my baby; whose face is like the sun; I’m so far from Carolina / But I can still see her smile / And when I dream, it almost seems / Like I’ve been with her awhile.”
By referencing a scenario we can all picture in our heads, we’re able to understand Mark’s pain a little more.
“Kind Ghosts,”my favorite song on the album, features Mark’s high-pitched whisper creating a sense of anguish. The slow, mellow tune is paired with digital sound effects, giving the album a folksy but also futuristic sound. I couldn’t tell you the meaning of the lyrics. But when I hear, “Nailed up and confused, like a horse on a highway,” or “How could I’ve not noticed the hammers that did me in,” it strikes a chord I didn’t even know I had. It’s like Linkous is explaining a feeling I’ve had forever, but never understood, until now. The song starts out slow, but picks up during the second chorus, leaving you just enough time to wipe your tears and head-bang for the rest of the song. It’s catchy and heartbreaking all at once.
Mark died before I even knew of the band, or before I started seriously listening to music at all. But the vulnerability in his music and lyrics and the way he’s able to connect with the listener make it feel as though I’ve listened to the band my whole life.
My dad introduced me to Sparklehorse, and I’m a fan because he is. This album couldn’t have come at a more perfect time. Recently I’ve been relistening to old tracks, because they remind me of home. The themes of family and distance in this new album resonate all too well with a homesick college student.
I can only think of the final track, “Stay,” as the last known recording of Mark’s voice. It’s a devastating truth, knowing that this is the last moment the listener hears Linkous’ voice on the record, but the album is so well-made that I can still listen to it daily and enjoy it.
“Bird Machine” is an album all college students need to hear. I was a Sparklehorse fan in high school, but I’ve been able to resonate with his music even more in college. Linkous is able to explain the unexplainable with his lyrics. Students are constantly experiencing so much change and so many deep feelings that are nearly impossible to put into words. It’s especially easy to feel alone in college and these songs speak to that.
Whether you resonate with Linkous’ meaningful lyrics, or whether you just want something to listen to while you walk to class, “Bird Machine” truly has a song for every student.
Edited by Alex Goldstein | agoldstein@themaneater.com
Copy Edited by Sterling Sewell | ssewell@themaneater.com