Culture Blues

Music: “Transference” – Spoon

Spoon was born way back in the halcyon alternative heyday of 1993 (you know, when MTV still aired videos, no one hated Friends yet, and Kurt Cobain was still alive). Since then, the Austin based indie-kings have been equal parts prolific and reliable; a feat that should not be dismissed considering all of the one-time darlings that have become casualties on the music industry battlefield of the last fifteen plus years. Though they have never managed to achieve their "Gold record breakthrough" over the course of their six album career, they HAVE turned their trademark staccato rhythms and tight grooves into credibility, acclaim and some completely classic LPs (Kill The Moonlight, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga). As the nineties fade further and further away in our mind's rearview much has changed; Spoon's co-founder and lead singer/songwriter Brit Daniel has moved to Portland (it's the new/old Seattle), no-one watches T.V. anymore, and Phil Jackson will have more wins as Lakers coach than he did with the Bulls by season's end (sorry to jock-out on you all, but that blew my mind recently). At least Spoon is still making records and their latest effort, the Freud-ly titled Transference, is pretty darn good.

Transference is one of those reactionary "left-turn" records, and it's not quite clear what they are turning away from... It could be a conscious effort to depart from the ultra-slickness of Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, or an unconscious (stupid Freud) urge to abandon the band's need to be more than just the guys with a song in the background of a movie or commercial that the proletariat loves. Whatever the motivations were, this disjointed, back to basics, minimalist approach really serves to add a layer of vulnerability and distress that was missing from the band's last album and suits this particular record quite nicely. The albums opens with Before Destruction, a disconcerting dirge-like organ sweller, which is a major departure from the usual stomp that kicks off a Spoon record. It sets the stage perfectly; this record is about being comfortable with being uncomfortable, about not having the answers and not caring. The next two tracks, Is Love Forever? and The Mystery Zone, show the band returning to a more recognizable form, while expanding upon the themes and core concepts lyrically. Who Makes Your Money has a pocket tighter than Ebenezer Scrooge's and a lovely reverb soaked breakdown (starting at about 1:40), that leads to a falsetto bridge which gets deconstructed by abrupt vocal-mix cuts and fades in a fashion that approaches sublime. The records brightest highlight is the descending masterpiece that is I Saw The Light; a song that builds tension with all the aplomb you would expect from renowned indie mavens, only to have it vanish and be rebuilt with meticulous judiciousness.

As I tie a bow on this review, I would like to address the undercurrent that is out there which claims that this is a meandering, uneven, or unfocused release. I suspect that this has something to do with the fact that about half of the cuts on this record appear in close to their original demo form, giving the record an almost "lo-fi" feel at times. My feelings on that are quite simple; in a world of infinite recording tracks and plugins, one has to be able to accept a decision like going for a more "live room" sound to be just as valid a production choice as ProTools HD, not as lazy or unfocused. Have bands that long to record in analog become an anachronism? We have to rise above a universal conformity of bitrate, people. But I digress... Spoon's 7th studio album is not quite Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, nowhere near Kill The Moonlight, but still highly enjoyable and totally worth giving a spin.