In her over 30-year queer career, Margaret Cho has managed to leave her mark on just about every mainstream creative endeavor we have available to us as artists. Since beginning her career as a stand-up comedian in the early 1990s, Cho has grown to be one of our most prolific multi-hyphenate artists, constantly working across genres and willing to share her creative pursuits with her fans and the general public. Over the last 30 years, she’s gone on several comedy tours and recorded many comedy specials and albums; she’s been in films and on TV; she’s co-produced podcasts, written books, and recorded and written her own music. She has also collaborated with other musicians like Fiona Apple, Grant Lee Phillips, Ben Lee, Andrew Bird, Ani DiFranco, Tegan and Sara, and Patty Griffin.
Her first two albums of original songs, Cho Dependent and American Myth, were released to critical acclaim in 2010 and 2016 with the former earning her a Grammy nomination in 2011 for Best Comedy Album. Both of those albums featured Cho’s signature style of finding ways to laugh at the more traumatizing aspects of her life while also finding new phenomena to poke fun at and lambast a little, hence being labelled as musical comedy albums. After a nearly nine year hiatus from music production, she released her newest album Lucky Gift last week on Valentine’s Day.
Cho, a self-proclaimed music lover, collaborated with musicians Roger Rocha and Garrison Starr to both write most of the tracks and produce and compose the album, which is less comedia than the previous two albums and more of an interesting examination of the last few years of Cho’s life, her personal losses, the political atmosphere in the U.S., and the kinds of music that move her the most.
The album’s opening title track, “Lucky Gift,” is undoubtedly the biggest song on the record in terms of composition and the places Cho has to take her voice in order to match the power-pop energy of the fast-paced drums, stomping electric acoustic guitar and double-neck mandolin, and celebratory background harmonies. Although the song is brand new, its structure, rises and falls, and ever-present tambourine feel especially reminiscent of late-1990s and early-2000s pop hits. In it, Cho sings to her lover, “Thought I’d lose you but I haven’t / The worst thing I been through never happened / I could look at you and live / You are such a lucky gift.”
Then, in what feels like one of the hallmark qualities of Cho’s sense of humor, just a few songs later, we get this one’s companion in “90s Sisyphus,” a song about breaking up with the lover in “Lucky Gift.” The composition of “90s Sisyphus” feels equally nostalgic, only its led by the fuzzy power chords of an electric guitar and punchy drums with a jangly, gleaming synthesizer just above it, all rounding out the late-1990s rom-com feel of the song. Whereas “Lucky Gift” was an ode to new love, “90s Sisyphus” gives us her feelings after the fall: “You got me so unbound / And I hate you now / Love’s most bitter refrain / Spit it up and taste it again.”
Two tracks on the album, “Funny Man” and “Baked Bread,” serve as informal eulogies for two of Cho’s friends who passed away since the recording and release of her last album. The first, “Funny Man,” is a crisp, percussive piano- and horn-section-driven track about the late, great Robin Williams and the difficulty of being the kind of comedian who uses humor as a coping mechanism for the trauma they’ve experienced, Cho singing at the chorus, “Weren’t we lonely / Weren’t we sad / Weren’t we beautiful / Weren’t we bad.” “Baked Bread” was written to honor Cho’s friend Gerri Lawlor, and its composition plays with the conventions of both pop-rock and country through its thumping bassline and twangy guitar hooks. This song is not quite as straightforward as “Funny Man” is. Instead, it is imbued in metaphor and what seems like very personal recollections of Cho’s life with Lawlor. That doesn’t make it difficult to listen to by any means, but it does feel a little less accessible than many of the other tracks on the album.
Another pair of tracks, “Wheels of Gold” and “Melinda,” address Cho’s 10-year struggle to finally get sober from opiate addiction, though the positionalities of the speaker on both of the tracks are completely different, with “Wheels of Gold” focusing on the feelings of being “in love” with drugs while “Melinda” sets its sights on the experience of recovery. The compositions of each track also help set the tone for their speakers: “Wheels of Gold” rivals that of “Lucky Gift” with the soaring orchestral swell of the electric organ leading the track whereas “Melinda” is much more lowkey, instead featuring slow, glassy acoustic guitars and some subtlely emotive violin.
Being that the long-out Cho has always fearlessly and publicly stood up for queer and trans people, it’s no surprise there’s a track on the album written specifically for queer and trans youth and dedicated to Nex Benedict. Through brightly composed acoustic guitars and glittering keyboards, Cho delivers an uncomplicated anthem for queer and trans youth reminding them that they’re free to be who they are even if the world tells them they’re wrong. Cho sings, “All I know is I’ve had enough / So I’m sending this message up / And you can be you / You can be you / You can be you / And that’s what’s true.” In a recent interview about the album, Cho said “You Can Be You” is one of her favorite tracks on the album explaining that “it’s an opportunity to establish a ‘queer elder’ understanding and a relationship to the younger community.”
While her first two music albums take the opportunity to incorporate more of Cho’s humor, Lucky Gift is an album of serious writing and musical composition that occasionally has some glimmers of Cho’s humor poking through. Although it is starkly different from a lot of the work she’s done, the album serves as yet another example of Cho’s talent. Where many artists this far into their careers might feel comfortable resting on the signatures and routines they’ve built, Cho proves once again that she’s consistently and successfully evolving, not just to keep up with the times but to show how vital it is to keep uncovering new parts of yourself as time goes on. In that way, Lucky Gift is just helping us get to know Cho in a completely different way than we’re used to and is a fun, welcome addition to Cho’s incredible repertoire.
