Caution
was taken in approaching this item as I have unerring faith in this man. What
he has injected into the cultural climate of the last 30 years is surrealistic
hope against a barrage of stultifying mediocrity. No stranger to the audio
process, David Lynch has been a lyricist for Julee Cruise, frequent contributor
to the soundtracks of his own movies and has his name on several odds and ends
projects as an unorthodox guitarist. The central roll that music plays in his
creations shows meticulous instinct so it makes perfect sense that, during his
directorial sabbatical, he should finally find time to release his first proper
solo album. Slothful journalism based on the spearhead single “Good Day Today”
suggested that it was going to be an electro-pop based excursion. This is, of
course, complete nonsense. The full spectrum of Lynch’s discordant surrealism
couldn’t possibly be realised through such a pinhole. Whatever else was thrown
into the cauldron, this was always going to be a tense fusion of bizarre pop,
eerie leftfield experiments and shimmers of THAT slow twangy guitar...
...and
CRAZY CLOWN TIME does indeed twang open with PINKY’S DREAM, immediately “Lynchian”
in it’s delivery, ( think Audrey Horn in a pencil skirt dancing by herself on
red and white diner tiles ), with a wonderful lead vocal from Karen O of the
Yeah Yeah Yeah’s. This is the sort of 60’s flavoured pop that didn’t actually
exist during the real 60s but sits firm in David Lynch’s asphyxiating
cinematic version of it. It wouldn’t be out of place on Lykke Li’s last album.
GOOD DAY TODAY, the single, comes in the guise of brazen pop with a strobing
guitar wash, repetitive programmed drums and some heavily vocoded nasal drawl.
After a fine start, SO GLAD is whiney and throwaway but things are quickly back
on track with NOAH’S ARK, a minimal metronomic passage with whispered vocals
and understated layers of sound rising and retreating through the mix. FOOTBALL
GAME is another unsettling, reverberating twanger, This time the vocals are delivered
in a sort of trailer park slur... an effect Mr. Lynch no doubt achieved by
filling his cheeks with cheap Styrofoam breakfast cereal... at least that’s
what his attention to detail suggests. I KNOW has an underlay of organ against
a slack drum beat with very economic fragments of guitar and vocals which come
across as improvised. STRANGE AND UNPRODUCTIVE THINKING is a bizarre vocoded
transcendental rant, which begins with “ Bearing all the aforementioned
dialogues we discover the possibilities of the curve towards progressive
behaviour and the ultimate realisation of the goal of evolution...” and
continues on for some time before wrapping up with some strange theories on
dental hygiene and a refrain of “ Strange and unproductive thinking ”. Given
Lynch’s involvement with transcendental meditation, it’s hard to know whether
he’s taking the piss or generously sharing some clandestine knowledge with us.
THE NIGHT BELL WITH LIGHTNING is very much a slow burning incidental backdrop
with more of that sparse signature guitar. Again, it stirs clear memories of so
many different classic and obscure on-screen “Lynchian” snapshots – some
psychoanalytical moment involving log ladies and coffee. STONE’S GONE UP is
another helping of whispered vocals over a drive time drumbeat which almost
threatens to breach normality except for a ‘noir’ undercurrent. CRAZY CLOWN
TIME, the disturbing title track features a high pitched whine, murmurs of
backward voices and lyrics that suggest sedation and hysterical entrapment –
the sort of social gatherings featured in many Lynch’s movies where guests are
present under duress, often drugged up or held at gunpoint. As for the crazy
clown... I’d rather not speculate. At this point it’s worth noting that
there’s a highly unsettling undercurrent in most of the lyrical matter. It’s
the same landscape that all the characters of Lynch’s oeuvre have inhabited – A
lost, bruised and dismantled America where sugary innocence always falls foul
of prevailing and wilful evil. THESE ARE MY FRIENDS recounts the frail scramble
for the crumbs of life by an involuntary player in the unforgiving David Lynch
narrative - “ These are my friends, the ones I see each day, I’ve got a
prescription for our problems, Keep the hounds at bay ”. SPEED ROADSTER is the
voice of a vengeful stalker with some unhinged plans. MOVIN’ ON evokes that
solitary late night driving shot that has been a repeated motif throughout
Lynch’s work. The Final track, SHE RISE UP is bleak, crawling to a vague and
hissing electronic cymbal, leaving the album hanging. In a dark and unforgiving
coda, the last inhabiting character comes away empty handed... there’s no happy
ending here.
It seems
fitting that this album sits among alumni on Play It Again Sam Records ( Front
242, Butthole Surfers, Young Gods, Soulwax etc... ). While having little in
common sonically with any of those entities ( except maybe a very heavily
sedated Buttholes in places ), the sympathetic and experimental environment
shields it from a sewage outfall of what might be classed as throwaway
celebrity albums. But this was never going to go badly awry or be utterly
uninteresting... like Lynch’s celluloid output, repeated consumption yields new
layers and far from being wilfully obscure gibberish, it’s mostly a cohesive
album. There are a couple of tracks that wouldn’t lopside it by their absence
but that’s more or less the sole criticism. This is, after all, the work of a
renaissance man and if Da Vinci can hop from painting to science to inventing
helicopters, then it is perfectly normal for David Lynch to make movies, paint
and release albums. I’m guessing this whole exercise is also going to save a
whole lot in licensing fees whenever he dusts down the director’s chair. - BOZ
http://www.playitagainsam.net/
http://www.playitagainsam.net/








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