CD Review: The Magnetic Fields’ DISTORTION
The Magnetic Fields: Distortion: 4 Stars
Where does Stephin Merritt get off? The creative force not just behind The Magnetic Fields, but also a number of other bands, Merritt uses his latest album, Distortion, to remind us of his two greatest assets: 1) He will never do things “the normal way”; 2) He will never establish a signature “home sound.” For some listeners an artist with ever-challenging approaches like Merritt is little other than annoying; for those hell-bent on the concept of art-through-growth, Merritt is – even when his work misses the mark, which is often – an inspiring creative force with a whole lot of mixed-bag albums and an endless imagination.
There are contrasting elements everywhere on Distortion, a surprisingly rockin’ record that plays through like a sing-along summer album made for freezing winter months. Despite having a thick blanket of drone-y (but warm) guitar fuzz over the whole baker’s dozen, little else about the collection makes an argument for fluidity as tact. There are multiple singers throughout, a heavy load of similar but different guitar and keyboard sounds and plenty of kinda creepy arthouse style. Oh, and it’s all cloaked in production that brings to mind the Jesus and Mary Chain. Merritt and Shirley Simms split vocals almost evenly with their contrasting styles: Merritt still delivers each word with a hopelessness made cheeky by his deep whirring voice; Simms sounds happy and young, and somehow just as mischievous and unctuous as Merritt.
Distortion sounds little like any other Magnetic Fields album, but its guts do feel familiar. What makes this a Magnetic Fields album is Merritt’s dense, brainy arrangements and hook-per-second writing style. Like some of his finer pop moments, Merritt makes every line seem memorable and every second seem thoughtful. The results, however, are different. Instead of mountains of strings, bleeping production or an elaborate lo-fi sound, Merritt drops buzzing, calculated guitars around every word, all drowning in the album’s namesake, never showing off or begging for attention. The real reason Distortion works is that it’s a pop record, one that’s cloaked in anything but pop elements. Again, contrasts.
New Merritt ponderers will most likely leave this record feeling uncertain about its maker’s direction and focus, while old fans should feel comforted, as their king of subtle experimentation and restless approach has struck again. He’s finally back from his long post-69 Love Songs struggle with mediocre genre benders, and with songs like “California Girls,” “Too Drunk to Dream” and “The Nun’s Litany” he’s delivered his most consistent record yet. In the spirit of both The The and Echo & the Bunnymen, Distortion is art-on-record, an unlikely mishmashing of ideas delivered ripe from both sides of the weirdo’s brain. Buzzing, fuzzy pop never sounded so brutal. (Greg Locke)
