Spoon
A Series of Sneaks
[Elektra]
Rating: 9.4
I hope you'll forgive me if I mention the Pixies more than ten times in
this review, but it's only because their specter hangs over everything
Spoon does-- though not as some sort of platonic ideal that mere mortals
can only dream of achieving; more like Obi- Wan Kenobi, a benevolent
teacher who has since passed on, but whose dutiful students are now out
saving the galaxy. A Series of Sneaks, Spoon's major label debut,
has the tossed- off vibe of the Breeders' Pod, throaty howls
directly from the Black Francis School of Singing, and the perverse,
magical language of Surfer Rosa all distilled into fourteen
compressed- air blasts of chunky guitar pop that make up one of the
catchiest albums of the year so far.
Frontman Britt Daniel expresses a distinct affinity for off- kilter rhythms
and meters, as well as the "white space" between instruments that became
hallmarks of the Pixies' sound, but on A Series of Sneaks he takes
them to their logical extremes, cramming an endless stream of hooks into a
ridiculously small amount of time (only two of the album's tracks
exceeds three minutes). Each song is like an aquarium full of Superballs,
with every sound bouncing around at a skewed angle-- instruments
ping-ponging between speakers or popping up occasionally to punctuate a
sentence. And then there are the vocals: where Black Francis bellowed weird
science about incest and aliens, Daniel speaks of oblique teen angst in
staccato barks, his voice thick and pouty as he sashays through jerky rave-
ups like "Utilitarian" and "The Guestlist/ The Execution" as well as smooth
Pavement- worthy aches like "Metal Detektor" and "Advance Cassette".
It's been said that the best albums aren't those which are perfect, but
those which hint at the possibility of perfection. A Series of
Sneaks is such an album; occasionally it feels more like a
collection of rough sketches than actual songs. I salivate at the thought
of the album that could have been produced had Spoon actually finished
writing their songs, but Spoon's offhanded enigmatism is much more preferable,
and paradoxically that much closer to perfection.
-Nick Mirov