Review Summary: With his second solo release under his “A.C.” alias, Newman does little to dispel the notion that he remains one of the most consistent entertainers of the indie world.
In a fairer world, Carl Newman would be heralded by mainstream media outlets the Western hemisphere over as one of Canada’s preeminent modern pop songwriters, the Great White North’s newer, hipper version of Sir Paul or Burt Bacharach. The brainchild behind perennial award-winners and indie mainstays the New Pornographers, Newman’s sun-kissed brand of quirky, technically accomplished baroque-pop has been imitated by many yet matched by few. Few songwriters working today can match his depth of wit and devious lyrical turns, and his immediately pleasing arrangements match the best of ‘60s pop with a properly indie experimental sensibility. With his second solo release under his “A.C.” alias, Newman does little to dispel the notion that he remains one of the most consistent entertainers of the indie world.
Newman was always the steadying force behind the New Pornographers fun-loving brand of pop. While Neko Case had her own style of countrified balladry and Dan Bejar a sense of weirdness and inexplicable charm that made its mark on any New Pornos song he wrote, Newman remained the lover of harmonic choruses, intricately developed melodies, and brilliant guitar-piano-vocal interplay. While the New Pornos’ latest, Challengers, focused more on slower tunes and diverse styles, Get Guilty harkens back to the New Pornographers of old, a guitar-drive, eminently catchy record of earnest pop-rock.
Opener “There Are Maybe Ten or Twelve” is suitably majestic, riding a pounding, ascending guitar line before settling into a quieter stop/start rhythm and Newman’s ambiguous lyrics to “make of that what you will.” The soft-loud dynamic works well here, alternating between brash bursts of toms and crashing chords to a lilting piano-led melody framing Newman’s distinctive pipes. Newman’s seemingly effortless ability to craft involved melodies that sound instinctive and easy. “The Heartbreak Rides” moves along cascading drums, lyrics that rhyme without even seeming to mean to, and a powerful chorus built on top of what sounds like woodwinds, a nonsensical chant of “yell-oooo,” and a pounding march of a climax.
Newman’s supporting cast fits the quality caliber of his song craft, from ex-Superchunk drummer Jon Wurst’s fine work on the breakneck pace of the South American-flavored “Like A Hitman, Like A Dancer” to Mates of State’s solid backing vocal work. But it’s Newman’s record through and through. “The Palace at 4 a.m.” is vintage Newman, flowing along a propulsive beat, a perfectly placed series of “ba-ba-bas,” a sugary-sweet chorus that could match up to the best of the New Pornographers’ catalogue, and typically obtuse Newman lyrics.
Wordiness, in fact, is perhaps Newman’s biggest downfall: when he proclaims “no more pushing words around” on “The Palace at 4 a.m.,” you wish he would have taken that a bit more to heart. The best Newman songs, such as his 2004 masterpiece “Miracle Drug” to Get Guilty’s highlights, “Submarines of Stockholm” and the closing “All of My Days and All of My Days Off” are simple and effective demonstrations of the power of a well-written melody. Songs like the otherwise enjoyable, elegiac “Young Atlantis” and the jumbled mess of “Prophets” suffer from rather odd thematic choices and lyrics that flounder rather than connect with the listener.
Luckily for us, Newman doesn’t seem to be running out of interesting material anytime soon. After four New Pornographers records and now this second solo effort, along with countless extracurricular contributions, Newman’s creative flow seems to be practically unstoppable. Do yourself a favor and listen to songs like the epic “There Are Maybe Ten or Twelve” and the syncopated sing-a-long ode to youth that is “Thunderbolt,” and perhaps comparing him to McCartney won’t sound too far off. Get Guilty is not a groundbreaking record, and it won’t have critics grasping frantically for some obscure superlative like, say, the latest Animal Collectives release, but it’s undoubtedly excellent music: honest, with smart writing and gorgeous production, and hooks that refuse to quit.
