As the leader of the quiet, lyric-driven band The Naysayer, Anna Padgett is following in the footsteps of many flat-sounding, disturbing geniuses, but her influences stray a bit from the likes of Leonard Cohen and Lou Reed.
“I LOVE Mr. Rogers,” she exclaims, with nary a hint of sarcasm. “I didn’t like him when I was little; I thought he was uncool. But once I became an adult, I got obsessed with him. I photocopied this article about him and carried it around with me – he just sounded like the sweetest, best person.”
One of the songs on Kitten Time, The Naysayer’s odd and tranquil new record, features lyrics by Padgett’s unlikely hero.
“I got a book called Letters To Mr. Rogers, with letters that kids wrote to him and his responses – that’s where I got the lyrics to ‘Good People Sometimes Do Bad Things.’ A kid wrote to him and said, ‘Sometimes I really do bad things and I’m not sure what to think about myself,’ and he wrote this really nice letter, with the lyrics at the bottom.”
The simple, straightforward approach of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood is apparent in Padgett’s approach to songwriting, which is about as direct as you can get. This bare bones style permeates each of the band’s three records, and it’s no accident. Every Naysayer album is essentially an Anna Padgett solo work, brought to fruition by a revolving group of collaborators.
“I tend to gravitate towards the short and sparse,” Padgett explains. “Maybe it’s because I live in New York – there’s so much chaos here – but it probably has more to do with the chaos in my head.”
There is nothing remotely chaotic about Kitten Time.Practically all of its 16 tracks clock in around two minutes, featuring muted electric guitar and soft, reserved singing. Padgett never sways from this placid vocal delivery, which gives Kitten Time an interesting dichotomy – the lyrics are swimming in bitterness and anger.
The title track is a decidedly depressing scientific method – you know it’s “kitten time” when you produce a certain amount of lonely tears. On the song “Jump Ship,” the calm and collected vocalist sings the lines, “Jump ship/Jump relationship ship/Shit ship,” without a hint of emotion. It’s not clear whether we’re supposed to mourn lost love or laugh out loud.
Regardless of the lyrical content, Kitten Time is a soft, relaxing ride, which induces the reassuring image of a smiling man in a blue cardigan, singing while he takes off his shoes.
Appeared in the August 2004 issue of Rockpile.