Distortion

The Magnetic FieldsDistortionWhere does Stephin Merritt get off? The creative force not just behind The Magnetic Fields, but behind 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, an artist with ever-challenging intentions 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 – an inspiring creative force with a whole lot of mixed-bag albums and an endless imagination.

There are contrasting elements everywhere, playing through as a sing-along summer record 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, lots of sounds and plenty of style, all cloaked in Jesus and Mary Chain-like production. 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, on the hand, sounds happy and young, and – naturally – just as mischievous and unctuous as Merritt.

Distortion sounds little like any other Magnetic Fields album, but its guts do feel familiar. The key elements here are the familiarity of Merritt’s dense, brainy arrangements and hook-per-second writing. Like some of his finer pop moments, Merritt makes every line seem memorable and every second seem thoughtful. The results are different, however. 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 – at least at it’s heart – it’s a pop record, one that’s cloaked in anything-but-pop elements. Again, contrasts.

New Merritt ponderers will most likely leave Distortion feeling uncertain about the man’s direction and focus, while old fans should feel comforted – their king of subtle experimentation and restless approach has struck again. He’s finally back, and with songs like “California Girls,” “Drive On, Driver,” “Too Drunk to Dream” and “The Nun’s Litany” he’s delivered his most consistent record yet; all done with nary a thought of expectations or norms. In the spirit of both The The and Echo and the Bunnymen, Distortion is art-on-record: an unlikely mish mashing of ideas from both sides of the brain.   8/10

Written by G. William Locke