I Like This Album (I - Magnetic Fields)

Member Name: Wezzo

Product:	I - Magnetic Fields
Date:	27/06/08 (73 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: A lot of great songs, good starting point

Disadvantages: Couple of weaker tracks

Stephin Merritt, "frontman" of The Magnetic Fields (if such a reclusive, shy fellow can be considered a frontman) likes a challenge. Not content with his ambitious attempt to write 69 love songs - compiled in the aptly named "69 Love Songs" - he returns a couple of years after that masterpiece with another unusual plan: to compile an album of songs whose titles begin with the letter "I". OK, so it's arguably an easier task this time round - instead of sticking to just one lyrical theme for 69 tracks, he just has to shoehorn "I" into 14 song titles - but this album remains a remarkable achievement, as Merritt is allowed a broader canvas to paint his cinematic lyrical vision upon.

Musically, the album remains in traditional Magnetic Fields, with most songs some variant of folk or soft rock - but crucially, the band's earlier reliance on synthesisers is missing here, most tracks being guitar- or string-driven. The result is a more mellow collection, on the whole, though the difference is less noticeable than might be expected, the lack of musical diversity countered by a variance in the density of the sound.

"I Die" begins the album in the manner in which it means to go on: a string-driven ballad of yearning ("I die when you walk by"). At one verse (two minutes) long, it's terse and impactful, with minimal instrumentation, though its very strengths - Merritt's always-moving minimalist approach - mean it's far from the most memorable track here. (7/10)

That accolade probably goes to "I Don't Believe You", the album's second track and only single. It's about as catchy as the Magnetic Fields have ever been - beating even "The Luckiest Guy" from "69 Love Songs" - and the chorus is close to a genuine sing-along, pretty rare for a Merritt composition. The production is warm and poppy, and lyrically, we're on fine form too - Merritt is as cynical as he has ever been: "So you quote love unquote me / Well, stranger things have come to be / But let's agree to disagree / 'Cos I don't believe you". (10/10)

"I Don't Really Love You Anymore" is pretty uptempo too, and while there's some evidence of the echoing and distortion we'd see more of on the band's later "Distortion", it's still a fairly mainstream affair. That's no bad thing, as we're treated to another fine, catchy melody, with another fine example of Merritt's lyrics, as he writes from the perspective of a jilted lover feeling sorry for themselves ("Think of me as .. just the bad comedian your new boyfriend's better than - 'cos I don't really love you anymore"). (9/10)

Recalling the carnival music "The Luckiest Guy", albeit in a rather more subdued form, "I Looked All Over Town" is the saddest song ever written about a clown. ("Nobody wants you when you're a circus clown / I should know, I looked all over town"). The melody is slight but memorable, and Merritt's wistful vocal delivery would bring you to tears if you were unaware of the quirky lyrical content (hell, the lyrics are so sweet it's easy to be saddened even when you do know what's being described). (10/10)

"I Thought You Were My Boyfriend", one of Merritt's many songs discussing homosexual relationships, brings us back to the theme of jilted lovers ("You told me you loved me / I know where and when / Come sunrise, surprise, surprise / The joke's on me again"). The backing music is fairly dense, compared to the remainder of the album, but the tempo remains moderate and it's doesn't exactly come close to rocking out. There are hooks a-plenty though, naturally, and all in all it's another excellent song. (8/10)

"I Was Born", backed with what sounds like a xylophone in addition to the guitar and strings, is a nostalgic paean to the lost innocence of childhood ("Growing older is killing a child"). It's moving but not particularly engaging, music-wise. (6/10)

"I Wish I Had An Evil Twin" is slightly more upbeat, though the music remains appropriately dark and occasionally disturbing - fair enough, given the subject matter (mulling over the "Mr. Hyde" in everyone, as it were). (8/10)

"If There's Such A Thing As Love" is another album highlight, a catchy, melodic track about first love: "If there's such a thing as love, I've caught it". There's a wonderful repeated violin hook repeated throughout, while layered backing vocals and a hook-laden bridge recall R.E.M.'s finest moments. But the real draw is the wonderful vocal delivery: Merritt is on top form as he deadpans his way through one the band's most accessible tracks. (10/10)

"I'm Tongue-Tied" is one of the album's quieter moments, with sparse instrumentation and a clear focus on Merritt's vocals above the backing. Lyrically we're in familiar territory, as Merritt mulls over his own social deficiencies ("I'm tongue-tied, I'm useless, I'm weak-kneed and brainless") and the power of love ("You say things, the room swings, I feel faint"). Sounds a bit like The Ink Spots. (8/10)

"In an Operatta", perhaps unsurprisingly, hints at an operatta-like style, in both structure and vocal delivery (though also perhaps unsurprisingly, doesn't go for all-out Pavarotti-style opera). Angelic backing vocals and clever rhyming support an emotional narrative about the archetypally-named Princess Violetta, while cinematic imagery ("pirate ship", "princess") further the link with traditional opera. (8/10)

"Infinitely Late at Night", while not the catchiest song here, does a wonderful job at capturing the atmosphere of a late night and converting it to musical form. Vaguely Frank Zappa-like in structure, the slowly-sung lyrics are backed with little instrumentation save for the occasional interjection from a surprisingly creepy harpsichord. Some nice turns-of-phrase too ("it's all black-and-white / without the white / it's just infinitely late at night"). (8/10)

"Irma", an ode to a woman named, erm, Irma, is next. Merritt's eye of detail improves an otherwise average song: "Irma waits by the window / vaguely looking down at her socks". The narrative is strange to say the least - Irma's father crashes his car into their house, sending boxes of chocolate flying - but it's still warm and moving, in that strange Merritt fashion. The backing is rather less inspired, however, and falls into Magnetic-Fields-by-numbers territory at times. (6/10)

"Is This What They Used To Call Love?" is among the slowest tracks on the album. Sung slowly, with a traditional ballad backing, the occasional strange sound effect and the occasional bizzare lyric slightly elevate it from the realms of the mediocre. It's fine while you're listening to it. It's also, unfortunately, very forgettable. (6/10)

Thankfully, "It's Only Time" is a return to form, ensuring the album is not remembered as one that fades out towards the end. It's a moving, melancholy ballad, with swooning, soaring strings and wonderfully sweet lyrics ("Why would I stop loving you a hundred years from now? It's only time..") It may be a simple sentiment built around a simple conceit, but it's an undeniably heartfelt sentiment all the same. Vocally, we're on top form as well; while the moving backing fits the lyric perfectly. A wonderful closer. (10/10)

All in all, a highly recommended album - perhaps a good point for those new to the Magnetic Fields to start, as the 3-disc "69 Love Songs" might be a bit intimidating for a newcomer. The album is available on CD (less than £5 on Amazon UK and Amazon Marketplace) or can be downloaded (at iTunes, 7Digital, etc.). The CD comes in a jewel case in a nice cardboard slipcover, and contains a lyric booklet. For your cash, you're getting 41 minutes of music between the 14 tracks.

Summary: Recommended