Self
The Half-Baked Serenade
[Spongebath]
Rating: 7.5
Just over a year ago when Radiohead had grudgingly accepted its role as
critical darling du jour, Matt Mahaffey (aka Self) was just stirring
from a long night's unrest in his Tennessee home studio. The result was
every bit as pre- millennially tense and electronically uptight as OK
Computer, only this 35- minute- long bedroom manifesto was cheeky.
"Joy, the Mechanical Boy" is hardly as paranoid as the android, but
behind the frenetic Soul Coughing- esque bass loops, C-3PO bleeps and
overdubbed lyrics is a tragicomic tale of a poor lad who can't stop
raving. Funnier, though still sinister, is the chorus of "Kiddies:" "Let's go trick or
treatin'/ Dressed up like Marilyn Manson/ Snatch up all the kiddies and
then hold them all for ransom," backed by a haunted Casio.
Strangely terrifying is the answering machine message from a Self fan
that kicks off "Cinderblocks For Shoes." The girl starts by telling Mahaffey
how much she loves him and finishes by cackling, "I know where you live and
everything! Ha ha ha ha ha!" It's a frantic dichotomy that continues into the
song's trapped resignation.
Yet, for as helpless as Self can sound, none of these songs are over
four minutes long, and none of them have anything less than energetic
rhythm and sampling combinations that betray the panic. I used to have
this sensation that I was having a heart attack when I got stoned, and
yet as freaked as I was, I couldn't stop laughing-- that's what Self
sounds like, only Mahaffey has the heart attack and leaves the laughing
to the listener.
-Shan Fowler