Rufus Wainwright is a soldier! He's fashioned as a forlorn knight of yore on this record's cover, brandishing a three-foot iron sword, and shrouded in medieval battle armor. But this image misleads: Want One is more a drove casting of arrows than any detailed fencing bout with mythical demons and fire-breathing dragons. The record is something of cinematic effort, composed of roughly half of the material recorded over the course of six months' studio time that yielded thirty-odd products of his unique musical vision. A follow-up, Want Two, is scheduled for future release, and is said to boast the set's more adventurous and cumbersome confections.
A Renaissance man in modern application, Wainwright's grand scope here covers a great deal of space and unwittingly mines the ground dug out by many a contemporary artist. With multitracked vocals and lush, complex arrangements (both, Wainwright staples), the ghost of Brian Wilson seems a ubiquitous presence-- especially on numbers such as "Vicious World", where Rufus' plaintive, appealing croon takes center stage, backed by a chorus of his own likeness and a finely tuned, direct arrangement. "Movies of Myself", with its straight-ahead bounce, drum-led clip, and aberrant guitar crunch, recalls Jason Faulkner. "14th Street" is a Jim Croce chorus-line cabaret burlesque, and "Natasha" loosely tunes in to early Paul Simon-inflected tribute-narratives.
But to say Wainwright is following anything but his own vision would be a misconception. His footsteps mostly lead him back to his earlier cabaret-infused theatre pop and maudlin, hushed anti-ballads. The result is a top-heavy album, with his best material-- the more operatic and unconstrained works-- all unfolded within the album's first half hour. "Oh What a World" opens the album with a tuba's reluctant elephant steps and some acoustic plucks, and slowly trickles in a full concert's worth of accompaniment before deploying a string rendition of Ravel's Bolero behind Wainwright's plaintive warble.