Jeff Mangum is an idol of sorts. He alone is the entire entity of Neutral Milk Hotel’s songwriting, and their songs, altogether come in a package to your ears directly from the mind of this Elephant 6 Collective mastermind. Taking a break a while to let Julian and company do their thing, whether it be playing with bells or drums the rest of the band can push Jeff’s singing and guitar lay downs to a completely different level. This is of course speaking for the band’s epic WWII themed masterpiece
In The Aeroplane Over The Sea. Mangum strayed off on his own for this one and found a place by himself to create, and write, much like a Syd Barrett of modern times. Now don’t get me wrong…the band altogether really bring a lively feel to NMH’s music, but really, Jeff is the captain of the ship they sail and in the end whether a song is either good or bad comes down to him and him alone. It is unlikely to hear a ‘Milk Hotel’ song where a member other than Mangum is pushing the music through your ears. Like backup, it all is, and on
On Avery Island it’s no different. Kind of like Kurt Cobain of
Nirvana, if you broke down the recording to nothing but the vocals you would still find a magnificent portrayal of emotion and feeling. Some musicians have that vocal effect, and Jeff Mangum is certainly no exception. Its amazing, and only one of a kind musicians have that quality. Well, Jeff organizes this record as though he expected you to find that out. He makes it painfully obvious at times; points on the record where it really is just him alone. Other than all that its really just very entertaining folk rock with slight psychedelic influence (courtesy of the E6C themselves, heh). Poppy and upbeat, at other times mellow and drawling. All the right reasons to make a record were put into sufficient work here by Mangum and friends.
With a strong opener such as ‘Song Against Sex’ is, you’d likely expect the album to find a way to sound much like ‘Aeroplane’ did, but still keep to a mellow sound of its own. Mangum’s honesty in his songs comes in to play here like always and will tell you that no, this is not ‘Aeroplane’. You shouldn’t come in desiring such a record because he hadn’t even come up with the concept as of yet whilst recording AI, because simply he hadn’t read the Anne Frank Diary. So the concept is much different but still great. A lot of the record isn’t at all like SAS, what with its happy tune and very,
very lively instrumentation courtesy of the other members of the band at the time (which isn’t the Neutral Milk Hotel that your used to). And since it isn’t the band together sounds so much different than the later days, with Julian and Jeremy and people like that to help Mangum. No. Instead, he gets co-founder of the Elephant Six Collective Rob Schneider (also of various E6 bands) and company, to make an atmosphere of their own. Unlike ‘Aeroplane’,
On Avery Island is so dreary and sad and downing that its hard to believe this man went on to make a song such as the untitled on ‘Aeroplane’ or the opening to said album. Magnum is not happy in his songwriting, and while ‘Song Against Sex’ may be the passing glance you give the album it would be such a misguided one. The entirety of OAI is typical apocalyptic Mangum writing, with lyrics such as ‘Someone is waiting / To swallow all the halos out of you / As your face blows / Through my windows / Sending pieces flying all around the room’ and ‘All I perceive is wasted and broken / Silvery streams, sacred when spoken’. From the solid opener to the electric ‘Marching Theme’ to the closer, the album finds its real theme and grasps it close all the time.
On Avery Island is obviously not as epic sounding or in a way as ‘exceptional’ as ‘Aeroplane’, and there is a reason for that. Not a genius one but to show you how things are with Jeff I believe that OAI was a blueprint of sorts, for the rest of his Neutral Milk Hotel career (whenever the hell
that’s getting off the ground). So touché, he hasn’t had much of one when it comes to NMH but of course there was a release after this. So to speak kindly about it, OAI was an outline for
In The Aeroplane Over The Sea. This is painfully obvious to the listener. What with the ingenious river-like lyrics flowing from the masterminds mouth to the accompanying guitars and other ‘instruments’, Jeff once again creates a world (like say, a lifestream to quote another world) and shrouds your mind in it until the specific song ends. Perhaps it isn’t quite as exciting or uplifting (definitely not) or beautiful as ‘Aeroplane’, but it gets the job done when it comes to Jeff’s marvelous goal of putting you in the shoes of somebody or something else. Admittedly it doesn’t take the same direction as its successor, but that’s because it is just that; merely an outline. Now I’m certainly not trying to say this album is bad, because if that’s the case then a pig just flew out my ass. But unfortunately I came to this after hearing ‘Aeroplane’, and what do you think I was expecting? Well its imperative that you don’t do the same. Definitely remember that, its important, for if you don’t (and its highly likely that you heard the second album prior to this, if your even interested in reading this) it will be one of the biggest letdowns you could experience in the entire span of your music-listening career. This rule goes for those who actually
like the second album, because if you don’t then it becomes an entirely different story. You will enjoy this to an extent if you just couldn’t listen to ‘Aeroplane’. The music takes a different toll on your brain and sets you up in a different field, really. For example, if a friend recommends an author to you and you read the book that everybody’s raving about and hate it, then decide that ‘Wow, this really doesn’t seem fit to what the author looks like he’s doing in other books’ (if the summary of the story for the book you hate doesn’t match up with his others) then take those up, and love them, same goes for Jeff Mangum as a musician. He has a different sound every time.
An entity is present on all of Mangum’s songs. This album is no different of a host to such musical ghosts and I can tell you what they mean.
Song Against Sex
Like the foolish child who likes to break all the rules to get attention, but really is just a shy boy who is devastated by the lack of attention, ‘Song Against Sex’ relates. Without the dank room, rickety guitar feeling the other songs hold so dear SAS is like an S.O.S. in a sense, but not so much calling for help as it is calling for your ears. This catchy opener is a theme that Mangum uses, I suppose to get his listeners into the album as quickly as possible. It was no different with ‘King of Carrot Flowers pt. 1’, agreed? An upbeat pop tune. If you can tolerate folk-rock of
any kind then this song is for you. But hey, the entire album is nothing like it really. Aside from the energy charged acoustic guitar and the meshing horns the rest of the record is like a family who has a distant brother. Or cousin, rather, that being this song. It flows well but it just doesn’t make the album what it is, and after hearing ‘Song Against Sex’ you may feel inclined to admit your immense letdown because it isn’t what you want. While ‘Aeroplane’ related to ‘KoCF’ pretty well, this, all they have in common is Mangum, really. It’s a pop song, the others aren’t pop songs. It’s a mischievous spirit who likes to play with you, leaving ‘You’ve Passed’ as the side to the seemingly scrumptious lunch splayed before you. But as you bite into that song it’s hard pressed that you’ll continue, if you’re into SAS and desire more. It will leave you wanting just that, more.
Where You’ll Find Me Now
A breezy, relaxed mellow anthem. Jeff sounds as though he feels very tired and just wants to get it done with; his voice has a quick edge to it that makes the song. His rapid vocal delivery is the focus of the song when the instrumentation becomes just noise, really. The musical credibility of his band (Mangum’s) pretty much falls to the ground here and lets him take over. Of course this record was not recorded in a proper setting, it being a person’s house, but drummers should always realize that they can make or break a song and adrenaline must be poured out through their fingers into the record all the time. It sounds like a quick break here, for everyone, making this track just a drawl more than a song. But nothing goes to say that its really a bad tune, nothing here is, but one of the rock-bottom ones. Still Mangum’s lyrics come into play and likely save the song. This is the mediocre, tired, exhaustedly wasted side of the album. Jeff is feeling dreary. The song sounds as though it was either played in the bleak darkness of a midnight recording stint or in the wee hours of the morning before an important event. All getting ready for it the band sight-reads through the parts laid out for them the night before and gradually prepares to catch forty winks afterwards. A sleepy song.
Naomi
‘Song Against Sex’ comes into play here. Not as much as you’d like it to but it definitely does. Still, ‘Naomi’ is quite a sad song. Not upbeat in any way besides perhaps the very open guitar parts, it feels almost haunting, as if Jeff speaks of a very close loved one (somebody outside an immediate family, just much more important) and goes through his recent memories of her to the death of said person. Unfortunately it happened and Jeff can’t seem to get over it, but the adrenaline rush of performing should repair his broken heart for a while. Holding in large amounts of emotion Mangum releases his tinny expression of what a lovely tune should sound like, and maybe its only his musical upbringing but it sounds more like a gloomy anthem that it should a love song. His almost monotone verses rock back and forth capturing your ears in the right ways to make you feel what he does. As usual. It’s a sleeping spirit. The energy is un-active and almost transparent, but the weight of the song greatly pushes aside these minor flaws and just floats away.
Jeff is a very attractive songwriter. It comes to a point sometimes where, you think, he’s giving you a gift (that is his life) then reluctantly taking it back slowly, so you don’t notice. Like a quiet plea for help. Always trying to show you what’s inside the box then quickly shutting it after only a brief glance. His lyrics are the highest point of example for this, as they reveal almost everything then at the same time you think…what if its nothing? What if it means nothing and was just severed lines from various poems he jots down to make a song minutes before the deadline recording? Its all entirely possible but I think with the man Jeff is it just isn’t true most of the time. I personally think that
On Avery Island is a hell of a lot more personal and much more intertwined with Mangum’s life then ‘Aeroplane’. Of course it may seem obvious, since ‘Aeroplane’ is supposedly an Anne Frank based tale but it really does contain hints to the man’s own life. OAI contains more. The songs are about him. It’s not as listen able and certainly not as acceptable to many as ‘Aeroplane’ but really, if something new is to come along this is it. ‘Aeroplane’ is a wonderful concept but ‘Avery Island’ is like the switch that turns it one. Roots are exciting to dig through, and this is no different.
Credits:
Guitar/Vocals/Various instrumentation: Jeff Mangum
Organ/Xylophone/Horns/Bass: Rob Schneider
Trombone: Rick Benjamin
Multiple instruments: Hilarie Sidney, Aaron Reedy, and Lisa Janssen
