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Articles:Lime Lizard - April 1993: Difference between revisions
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Vudi agrees: “Mitchell was great to work with. He didn’t impose anything on us. He’d make suggestions and if we didn’t want to do them we’d just say, ‘Well, no’. But he does have very strong musicianship and he tries to get that across when he approaches things. We’d just make a noise and he’d try to make it move along nicely.” | Vudi agrees: “Mitchell was great to work with. He didn’t impose anything on us. He’d make suggestions and if we didn’t want to do them we’d just say, ‘Well, no’. But he does have very strong musicianship and he tries to get that across when he approaches things. We’d just make a noise and he’d try to make it move along nicely.” | ||
The influence that Froom, who worked on two of last year’s most under-rated albums, Los Lobos’ ''Kiko'' and Suzanne Vega’s ''99. | The influence that Froom, who worked on two of last year’s most under-rated albums, Los Lobos’ ''Kiko'' and Suzanne Vega’s ''99.9'', has had on ''[[Mercury]]'' cannot be underestimated. Indeed, those familiar with AMC’s past work may be more than a little surprised by how far it strays from their regular, predominantly guitar-based arrangements. From the calliope waltz of "[[Hollywood 4-5-92|Hollywood]]" and the dance-beat drum pattern on "[[What Godzilla Said To God When His Name Wasn't Found In The Book Of Life]]" to the Eastern-tinged break in "[[Dallas, Airports, Bodybags]]", and the soaring strings of "[[Johnny Mathis' Feet]]", Froom and the band imbue the songs, some of which existed in various forms more than a year before the album was recorded, with strange, often troubling undercurrents. Any fears that the increasingly complex and ambitious arrangements may distract attention from Eitzel’s lyrics are unfounded. If anything, the new, more treacherous musical terrain multiplies the way in which his words can be interpreted. AMC have never sounded quite so rich and remarkable as they do on ''[[Mercury]]''. | ||
On the whole, this musical makeover suited the band just fine, although they admit to a modicum of overkill – much of it intentional – on the paean to vacuous showmanship, ''[[Johnny | On the whole, this musical makeover suited the band just fine, although they admit to a modicum of overkill – much of it intentional – on the paean to vacuous showmanship, ''[[Johnny Mathis' Feet]]''. | ||
“The orchestra was our idea,” says Mark, at this point happy to take full responsibility. “It had to be there. It’s a corny song so you’ve just got to push it ‘to the max.'" | “The orchestra was our idea,” says Mark, at this point happy to take full responsibility. “It had to be there. It’s a corny song so you’ve just got to push it ‘to the max.'" | ||
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The songs on ''[[Mercury]]'' are typically emotionally unflinching. Eitzel rails against a world which cruelly turns a blind eye to the suffering of others, be it those who have died or are dying of AIDS (the victims of which the singer calls “the true patriots of America”) or those for whom love has simply run its course, leaving them lost and alone, scared, scarred and bitter. Even the most cursory of glances at the album’s lyric sheet will reveal that Eitzel is in particularly merciless mood, tearing himself inside-out as he attempts to understand the pathetic deaths, the tortured hearts and the broken souls. | The songs on ''[[Mercury]]'' are typically emotionally unflinching. Eitzel rails against a world which cruelly turns a blind eye to the suffering of others, be it those who have died or are dying of AIDS (the victims of which the singer calls “the true patriots of America”) or those for whom love has simply run its course, leaving them lost and alone, scared, scarred and bitter. Even the most cursory of glances at the album’s lyric sheet will reveal that Eitzel is in particularly merciless mood, tearing himself inside-out as he attempts to understand the pathetic deaths, the tortured hearts and the broken souls. | ||
I could quote lyrics at you from here clear into the next issue, but these concerns are never more directly stated than in the fragile, aching ballad to a lost love, "[[ | I could quote lyrics at you from here clear into the next issue, but these concerns are never more directly stated than in the fragile, aching ballad to a lost love, "[[I've Been A Mess]]". Beginning with a consolatory mandolin and Eitzel’s broken voice singing the lines “Lazarus wasn’t grateful for his second wind/For another chance to watch his chances fade like the dawn/And me, I can barely tell you/Just how pale I get without you,” it stretches across miles of pain and hurt and ultimately leaves you at peace, able perhaps to accept, but never forget, whatever personal loss you dredge up in empathy. It’s beautiful, although a friend called it “the most generic AMC song” she’d ever heard. | ||
“Well,” stalls Eitzel, obviously considering and dismissing the judgment at the same time, “maybe I have reached the point where I’m just writing formulaic [[American Music Club]] songs. Maybe I’ve reached the point where aged people tend to do the things they know best. I must say I like '[[ | “Well,” stalls Eitzel, obviously considering and dismissing the judgment at the same time, “maybe I have reached the point where I’m just writing formulaic [[American Music Club]] songs. Maybe I’ve reached the point where aged people tend to do the things they know best. I must say I like '[[I've Been A Mess]]'. It’s got the corniest chorus in the whole world. I’ve had people tell me that it’s the worst song I’ve written in my life. But I like it. I like playing it.” | ||
Eitzel may know how to read the map of the human heart, but his ability to capture a sense of time and place should not be overlooked. It’s this talent which marks him out as a truly great songwriter, transporting you to the bars and clubs of "[[ | Eitzel may know how to read the map of the human heart, but his ability to capture a sense of time and place should not be overlooked. It’s this talent which marks him out as a truly great songwriter, transporting you to the bars and clubs of "[[Gary's Song]]" and "[[Crabwalk]]", the lonely highway outpost of "[[Nightwatchman]]" or the sun-drenched shores of Waikiki in "[[The Hula Maiden]]" with little more than a few evocative lines and some subtly clever musical arrangements. Early albums have titles like ''[[California]]'' and ''[[United Kingdom]]'' (where, in Southampton, Eitzel spent his formative years), while songs are littered with references to various streets, establishments and cities. This habit reaches a peak on ''[[Mercury]]'' with songs such as "[[Gratitude Walks]]", "[[Hollywood 4-5-92]]", "[[Dallas, Airports, Bodybags]]" and "[[Challenger]]", a song seemingly about contemplating suicide while in an aeroplane over Detroit. | ||
“Yeah, I noticed that too on this album,” agrees Mark. “Place names are good because they’re details. Everything is about details. Places are brooding, places have their own little thing. I like places.” | “Yeah, I noticed that too on this album,” agrees Mark. “Place names are good because they’re details. Everything is about details. Places are brooding, places have their own little thing. I like places.” | ||
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“Like, I enjoy spending time here, in London, although it’s got so depressing. People seem so depressed here, compared to San Francisco. I mean, I love London, really, but if you’re alone here it can be hard. I was alone here for two months in 1992, didn’t speak to anybody. I took the Tube all the time, everywhere. I can’t even sit on the Tube now because I get really paranoid about people. You sit facing somebody and they don’t look at you and you don’t look at them, or else they are looking at you, which can be worse.” | “Like, I enjoy spending time here, in London, although it’s got so depressing. People seem so depressed here, compared to San Francisco. I mean, I love London, really, but if you’re alone here it can be hard. I was alone here for two months in 1992, didn’t speak to anybody. I took the Tube all the time, everywhere. I can’t even sit on the Tube now because I get really paranoid about people. You sit facing somebody and they don’t look at you and you don’t look at them, or else they are looking at you, which can be worse.” | ||
Even allowing for the new musical experimentation evident on | Even allowing for the new musical experimentation evident on ''[[Mercury]]'', no-one listening to the album for the first time will fail to be struck by the seeming incongruity of the penultimate track, "[[More Hopes And Dreams]]". Two minutes worth of barely audible electronic bleeps possessing an elusive and strange melody, it can be either maddening or soothing, depending on your mood. No matter how you react to it, it clears the palate for the similarly hushed and intimate finale, "[[Will You Find Me?]]". So the risk pays off, ultimately, although what it is that’s emitting this curious musical sorbet remains a mystery. | ||
“That’s a power station in San Francisco,” says Mark, satisfying my curiosity. “I think it’s a systems check, to say that all the systems are going well. Me and Vudi were out there one night taking pictures and we listened to it and thought ‘This is it! We want this on the album’. We weren’t sure how we were going to use it, we just went and recorded it.” | “That’s a power station in San Francisco,” says Mark, satisfying my curiosity. “I think it’s a systems check, to say that all the systems are going well. Me and Vudi were out there one night taking pictures and we listened to it and thought ‘This is it! We want this on the album’. We weren’t sure how we were going to use it, we just went and recorded it.” | ||
Before I can question further the wisdom of what seems like quite a deliberately perverse decision, Vudi anticipates my question with a purely aesthetic approach which precludes further | Before I can question further the wisdom of what seems like quite a deliberately perverse decision, [[Vudi]] anticipates my question with a purely aesthetic approach which precludes further skepticism. “It has a nice musical quality. I think there’s a lot of suspense in that little melody.” | ||
There’s no doubt that American Music Club make an unlikely major label band. Both Mark and Vudi freely admit that the ‘grunge revolution’ helped bring them to the attention of record companies who would have ignored them in pre- Nirvana days. However, they don’t feel any great affinity with the new wave of ‘slacker’ guitar bands, whose chief concern seems to be avoiding the extreme emotional highs and lows that Eitzel and co. fearlessly explore. If there’s any one relatively modern band Eitzel is more than happy to draw a parallel with, it’s the late, great Replacements, critical darlings of the 1980s, with a loyal cult audience similar to AMC’s, who signed to a major after the independent success of the seminal | There’s no doubt that [[American Music Club]] make an unlikely major label band. Both Mark and [[Vudi]] freely admit that the ‘grunge revolution’ helped bring them to the attention of record companies who would have ignored them in pre-Nirvana days. However, they don’t feel any great affinity with the new wave of ‘slacker’ guitar bands, whose chief concern seems to be avoiding the extreme emotional highs and lows that Eitzel and co. fearlessly explore. If there’s any one relatively modern band Eitzel is more than happy to draw a parallel with, it’s the late, great Replacements, critical darlings of the 1980s, with a loyal cult audience similar to AMC’s, who signed to a major after the independent success of the seminal ''Let It Be'', lost a brilliant guitarist who had been threatening to pull the whole band down into whatever private Hell he had been occupying, and then gradually disintegrated until singer-songwriter Paul Westerberg emerged as a solo artist in his own right. | ||
“They were a great rock band for a while,” muses Vudi, “they just didn’t have a clue so they were great. With the original line-up, they just didn’t give a fuck and that really helps.” | “They were a great rock band for a while,” muses [[Vudi]], “they just didn’t have a clue so they were great. With the original line-up, they just didn’t give a fuck and that really helps.” | ||
Adds Mark: “They just wanted to be a rock band in the classic sense and…self-destruction ahoy! Which is fine.” | Adds Mark: “They just wanted to be a rock band in the classic sense and…self-destruction ahoy! Which is fine.” | ||
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I guess so. Although you do appear to be relishing that last thought to a rather worrying degree. | I guess so. Although you do appear to be relishing that last thought to a rather worrying degree. | ||
“Well, y’know, we try to emulate them, but in our own lame sort of way. | “Well, y’know, we try to emulate them, but in our own lame sort of way." | ||