New York, NY (Top40 Charts) Everybody in the world has been through something traumatic. Given the last few years everyone has had, likely, those psychic wounds are still fresh. The best and bravest pop artists haven't turned away from this. Instead, they've written that pain into songs: frank lyrics, unresolved questions and hanging chords, and apocalyptic imagery. In "Aftermath," the latest single by Jessica Carter Altman, the adventurous pop songwriter imagines a wasteland, scorched earth, and the occlusion of the sun. She could be singing about the state of the world, or the state of her heart - or both.
"Aftermath" is Carter Altman at her best and most provocative. It's a smart, tough-minded pop song with a clever arrangement, an instantly memorable chorus, and a probing performance by the star. Carter Altman sounds like a woman with unanswered questions ready to know the truth no matter the cost, and determined to steady herself after a period of upheaval. Everything about the track is uneasy, mysterious, seductive, dangerous, including the rim shots evocative of a smoky club, and the ghostly, echoed backing vocals, and the bass line that sniffs around the mix like a police dog.
"Aftermath" was produced by Grammy winner Jason Lehning , a record-maker who has lent his distinctive sound to tracks by adventurous artists like Bill Frisell, Alison Krauss, and Erasure. Lehning wrote the song with Jessica Carter Altman, and he adds a tasteful synthesizer to the track, too. They've fitted "Aftermath" with a full string section, but it's never overwhelming. All things are perfectly balanced, all sounds are in their place, and everything is appointed to create a sonic environment for Carter Altman's haunting storytelling to resonate.
In Colt Morton's spooky clip for "Aftermath," Carter Altman occupies that environment. While it's still and beautiful inside her living room - one with full bookshelves and comfortable furniture - there's a creeping sense of disturbance that hangs over the scene. The star is busy preparing for something to come, though it's never clear whether she's battering down the hatches against a coming threat, or departing for good. She also occupies a strange and unearthly zone out of time. While her apartment is modern and her fashions are current, the machines she interacts with are old. Emergency warnings come through a CRT television, she reaches out to the rest of the world through a landline and carries a vintage transistor radio. It's all a reminder that anxiety and threats have always been with them.
