Spoon: Audio Porn

yes that's right. you heard me.

'gimme fiction' is audio porn.

(i first wrote 'gimme fuction.' see where my mind goes when i listen to these people? sheesh!)

not sure what it is. perhaps it's that beat. that soggy, persistant, turned-up beat.

perhaps it's the piano, the low-note addition which weighs the song down with its presence.

mayhaps it's the lyrics... at once bafflingly complicated and startlingly simple. 'i want to land the part of eddie in 'the stranger dance'?' WHAT?? are you just trying to rhyme here, or is that an actual thing? or what? aaaagh!

or perhaps it's britt daniel's bowie-esque, stuffy-nosed voice. especially when he goes, 'uh... uh... UH!' in 'merchants of soul.' and i clap my hands and squeal with glee everytime i hear it.

and i hear it. A. LOT.

yea, it's one of those albums that i have had to listen to about 400,000 times a day. it caught me right from the start. it's going to teach me how to play the drums.

even though i think drummers are completely INSANE, this record makes me really want to learn how to do it. jim eno 'plays for the song,' (as richard hughes from keane once described his definition of a great drummer... one who 'plays for the song') and his irresistable, sexy-ass beat gets turned up a wee bit in the mix to keep the songs driving along.

not sure what their influences are, but spoon reminds me of bowie, and yes, i'll say it... even the very obvious comparison to prince (and NO, NOT just on 'i turn my camera on.' sheesh. give me a little more credit than that). they're taking a glance at rock's back catalogue, looking at some beatles and even a little stadium rock from the 70s, but adding some tripadelic fun, with the roaring guitar feedback.

it's all very simple, too. the drums are not going out to the gomez realm... eno's keeping it real. the guitar is not really going past a few cords, and the piano really is just a few deep notes here and there so the rest of the music can kind of wrap around it. britt's vocals are incredibly intense, however. he sings with his nose completely plugged up, as if he had a very bad headcold for the entire time they were recording, which is not something i noticed at first, then when i did notice it, it bothered me. but now it doesn't bother me anymore. his voice is just so goddamned sexy, you're willing to overlook the snuffles. they love layering his voice, too, which works so perfectly and makes the songs just leap. fucking brilliant.

this is not a small album. this is not a quiet little release. this is a deep, rich, swirling cacophony that refuses to let you just sit there. the instant classic 'sister jack' forces you to tap your foot (at the very least), whether you want to or not. i look like a complete lunatic driving down the road listening to this, air drumming and air guitaring like a 13 year old boy. it's really turned me into a nightmare on the road. if i get into an accident because of these people, i'm sending them the bill.

this record has the makings of a true cult. the cult of spoon. shave britt's head and you've got your charasmatic leader right here.

the fact that i am actually considering missing my beloved aqualung to see spoon live in austin is commentary enough on how phenomenal this record is. well, in my opinion, anyway.