REVIEW : The Graduation Ceremony - Examiner

With The Graduation Ceremony, Joseph Arthur, the troubadour of digital age folk-pop, contributes to the upper echelon of great break-up albums. Like Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks, Beck’s Sea Changeand the Afghan Whigs’ Gentlemen, Arthur’s effort treats the devastation of a failed relationship with maturity rather than mopey self-pity. Sure, there is a healthy dose of woe-is-me self-loathing, but it’s tempered by Arthur’s chronicling of every stage of the emotional fallout with unflinching honesty—denial, anger, despair, and begrudging acceptance.

Opener “Out on a Limb” sets the tone of the song cycle perfectly. The pastiche of a delicately plucked guitar, whispery vocals and sparse piano is the sound of the sucker-punch of a being dumped, the bargaining both with oneself and the former significant other to end the internal desolation. “Fading memories/Blame us too/But that’s alright,” Arthur sings, summing up the sadomasochistic pull to hang onto the past despite the inherent pain.

Arthur frequently eschews obscurity and metaphor for direct terms—“You betrayed me/You were the only one/I let inside” he sings in a hair-thin falsetto in “Watch Our Shadows Run,” while in “Over the Sun,” he bemoans, “When I cheat on you/You’re still all I see,” shouldering the blame he elsewhere casts onto his ex. Such candor does not come across as lazy, but as cathartic and necessary.

Arthur’s trademark conjuring of subtle melodies and lush arrangements from simple instrumentation remains intact. The layering of electric and acoustic guitars, drum loops, strings and keys creates harmonious soundscapes, where noisy competition would have arose in a lesser musician’s hands.

The final trio of songs displays the push toward acceptance. “Gypsy Faded,” arguably the star song here, finds Arthur sing-speaking out of step with the warm musical backing, addressing both his and his former lover’s faults, while also forgiving them. “I do however want to say that I wish you the best/past the anger of betrayal and the need to second guess.” Clearly, some time has passed here and he’s viewing the relationship in a rearview mirror, the implication being that he’s driving forward. “I don’t feel you anymore” he sings in the bridge, completing the connection to Dylan’s “Idiot Wind.”

Follower “Call” catches Arthur in the last brief relapse, desperately hoping his ex will call, while conscious that such contact is not in his best interest. In closer “Love Never Asks You Lie,” Arthur shuts the door on the turmoil he’s endured; it’s no coincidence the album gleans its title from this song. He’ll retain some sentimental affection for his ex, but recognizes without bitterness that he and she simply were not good for one another. It’s no one’s fault; it’s just the way it is.