The Magnetic Fields, “Distortion” (Nonesuch)
Stephin Merritt, head of the wry indie-pop group Magnetic Fields, has the vocal range and pep of a bullfrog, and his approach to instrumentation is invariably chilly and basic.
But his application of these elements to an otherworldly songwriting prowess often produces some of the best music around. On “Distortion,” the man behind the massive “69 Love Songs” box set and various electro-organic projects unites heart-squeezing songs with fuzzy guitars and echo-laden percussion, creating the first truly great record of 2008.
Merritt’s voice is in fine form on buzzing laments like “Old Fools,” which sounds like it was recorded under a shower of welding sparks. But frequent member Shirley Simms provides the bulk of the melodic highs, particularly on the brittle “California Girls” and strangely ebullient “Nun’s Litany.”
The instrumentation invokes the Jesus and Mary Chain’s neo-Wall of Sound approach with choking self- consciousness, instantly living up to the disc’s title. Certainly, this is as noisy as we’ve ever heard this normally crisp outfit.
But “Distortion” also rewards each listen with new levels of organic, emotional depth, and the promise of more to come. John Wenzel
Matt Costa, “Unfamiliar Faces” (Brushfire, released Jan. 22)
Let’s start with a few key touchstones. This is Matt Costa’s second release on Brushfire Records — the imprint owned and operated by Jack Johnson. Costa is also buddies with Elvis Perkins.
That said, you can guess what kind of a songwriter Costa is. He’s smart, but not too smart for a general audience. He has a digestible and unique voice, and he favors the acoustic guitar as his instrument of choice. He’s clearly talented . . . but he’s not all that interesting.
Costa’s latest record starts out solid with the jittery piano pop of “Mr. Pitiful,” a song that’s played with rhythm and percussion in a playful and unpretentious manner. The record then spirals into the land of meh. A few of the songs — “Lilacs” and “Miss Magnolia” — are bright and lovely, thanks largely to Costa’s voice, which often makes the mangled vowel sounds of the Decemberists Colin Meloy.
But his listenable voice can’t save most of the songs on the record. “Emergency Call” sounds like it had the potential to be a fun track, but it came out as a generic pop ballad. And the melodies behind “Vienna” and “Cigarette Eyes” sound like they’ve been recycled one too many times through the folk-rock mill. Ricardo Baca
Grand Ole Party, “Humanimals” (DH Records)
Initial thoughts on the first listen of “Humanimals:” San Diego’s Grand Ole Party is borrowing equally from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs — both lyrically and with daggerlike guitars — and some of Motown’s sparsest compositions.
It sounds nice, and that’s part of the problem. This kind of music should be fierce and out of control and fearless, not nice.
Thoughts after a few more listens: The production on this record — headed up by Blake Sennett of Rilo Kiley and the Elected — is too clean and precise. In a song like “Insane,” which draws so headily from garage rock, soul and R&B, you need more voices on the “Ahs” and “Ohs,” less flash in the percussion and more life/volume/grit in the guitars. You need the kind of attitude in the music to match the sass singer-drummer Karen Gundred is spitting.
My guess is that Grand Ole Party, as young as they are, has quite a live show. This isn’t the kind of music you play sitting down — or standing still, for that matter. But with such well-mannered production, you would never know that there’s a tiger behind this housecat. Ricardo Baca
