Cellar Door
John Vanderslice
Barsuk
(of
5)
So I guess the typical John Vanderslice release
usually comes with a misleading press package full
of lies like “Microsoft is trying to sue me
for putting this out” (referring to Mass Suicide
Occult Figurines’ “Bill Gates Must Die”)
or “look at me—I’m a time traveler!” (for
Time Travel is Lonely) or “look at me—I’m
a four-tracker!” (for The Life and Death of
an American Four-Tracker—well, I guess that
one was true).
I don’t know. I didn’t get a press kit.
All I have is the music on the album to go on. But
I am pretty proud of myself because, well, I think
I was still able to figure it out. (Please hold your
applause until the end of the review.)
But first, for the uninitiated, John Vanderslice
used to be in the band MK Ultra, one of the better
bands you probably haven’t heard of. But when
it split up back in 1999, he followed the path trod
by Sting, Björk, Cher and Limahl—going
solo—only he kept his full name (because who
wants to listen to a band called John?). Always celebrated
for his frank and clever lyrics, Vanderslice sounds
less like Jeff Mangum (Neutral Milk Hotel) than Colin
Meloy (The Decemberists) and even more than, oh,
let’s say, Limahl (Kajagoogoo).
But so what’s this Cellar Door all about, you’re
asking? My first clue was the album’s title.
As anyone who’s seen “Donnie Darko” (only
like, the third-best movie of all time) knows, “cellar
door” is the most beautiful combination of
words in the English language. Hmmm. But then “Promising
Actress” can’t stop singing about “Mulholland
Drive” (another great 2001 release). And “When
It Hits My Blood” seems pretty eerily reminiscent
of Darren Aronofsky’s drug-addled masterpiece, “Requiem
for a Dream.” It seems to me that Vanderslice
has broken out his time machine once more, with his
sights set on the Tower Theatre, circa fall 2001.
Want more proof? Well, that’s pretty much all
I’ve got. But bear in mind, I don’t get
out much. Some of these songs might be about “My
Best Friend’s Wedding” or “Blue
Crush” and I wouldn’t know it.
What I can say is this: John Vanderslice, whatever
his intentions, has churned out yet another solid
batch of slightly twisted four-track indie pop
that ought to appeal to anyone discerning enough
to be reading RED Magazine.
—BS
Different Cars and Trains EP
The Notwist
Domino
(of
5)
A lot of publications are putting The Notwist’s
Neon Golden on their year-end lists for 2003, which
is a place it would certainly belong, right up at
the top, were it not for the fact that next month,
the album will already be two years old. (Though
granted, it did see U.S. release last February.)
So what little goodies do the good folks at Domino
have in store for those (like me) who have been patiently
waiting for an equally inspired follow-up? How about
a 30-minute EP of remixes by Console, Loopspool,
Four Tet and Manitoba? Um, is that all you got? Well,
uh, OK, but you’d better be working on something
new.
Billing two of the tracks as Console remixes is a
bit like billing The Joshua Tree as U2 featuring
the Edge—he’s already a member of the
band. And who’s this Loopspool fellow, you
ask? Well, he does the electronics for the Tied & Tickled
Trio, just one of the Notwist’s Markus and
Micah Acher’s many, many side projects. (It
would take a two-course class just to keep up with
all of them.)
So besides the relatively uneventful, previously
unreleased ambient track “Red Room,” the
only real leap out of the semi-incestuous German
electro-pool is with the Four Tet and Manitoba remix
of “This Room.”
If you’ve read our year-end feature on the
best albums of the past year, I shouldn’t have
to tell you that Four Tet (Kieran Hebden) and Manitoba
(Dan Snaith) are already putting out some of the
best music of our day, so it shouldn’t be a
surprise that this track is the highlight of the
EP. (Though Hebden seems to be the one in the driver’s
seat here.)
Still, I am perhaps being a bit harsh on the rest
of the EP. It makes for an enjoyable listen and varies
enough from the original versions of the songs to
merit release.
In short, Different Cars and Trains is probably all
it ever purported to be—a rewarding listen
for the already weathered fan, but by no means a
great introduction to what I’m just going to
go ahead and call one of the top 20 bands currently
recording music.
—BS
