December Songs 6 (2017)

It's a Joanna Newsom kind of day. Not a big introduction here. She is a gorgeous, magical, brilliant goddess. This is a fun description by David Holmes in Stereogum, followed by ten songs he favors: 
 
". . . the object of their dainty diction is a woman who plays brain-melting solos with only one hand on a million-stringed contraption the size of a small dinosaur while the other hand plucks out shapeshifting polyrhythms in time signatures so tangled they demand three or more semesters of calculus to comprehend, as poetry worthy of T.S. Eliot is propelled into the stratosphere by Beyonce-caliber vocal runs delivered with the splendor and swagger of Kate Bush then tethered back to Earth with pedal footwork so intricate it would trip up Michael Jackson — or, at the very least, Justin Timberlake."

This is Divers, from her latest album, of the same name.

And the lyrics:

A diver is my love

And I am his, if I am not deceived

Who takes one breath above for every hour below the sea

Who gave to me a jewel

Worth twice this woman's life, but would cost her less

Than laying at low tide to see her true love phosphoresce

And in an infinite regress

Tell me why is the pain of birth

Lighter borne than the pain of death?

I ain't saying that I loved you first

But I loved you best

I know we must abide

Each by the rules that bind us here:

The divers and the sailors and the women on the pier

But how do you choose your form?

How do you choose your name? How do you choose your life?

How do you choose the time you must exhale and kick and rise?

And in an infinite capsize

Like a bull tearing down the coast

Double hulls bearing double masts

I don’t know if you loved me most

But you loved me last

Recall the word you gave

To count your way across the depths of this arid world

Where you would yoke the waves and lay a bed of shining pearls

I dream it every night:

The ringing of the pail, the motes of sand dislodged, the shucking, quick and bright:

The twinned and cast off shells reveal a single heart of white

And in an infinite backslide

Ancient border, sink past the West

Like a sword at the bearer's fall

I can't claim that I knew you best

But did you know me at all?

A woman is alive, a woman is alive

You do not take her for a sign

In nacre on a stone, alone, unfaceted and fine

And never will I wed

I'll hunt the pearl of death to the bottom of my life

And ever hold my breath till I may be the diver's wife

See how the infinite divides

And the divers are not to blame

For the rift spanning distant shores

You don’t know my name

But I know yours