Mark Kozelek
What's Next to the Moon
[Badman]
Rating: 6.0
Mark Kozelek needed a change. Over the course of four years and six albums in
the '90s, the Red House Painters frontman penned enough slow, open-hearted
tunes to satiate even the most severely-afflicted melancholic patient. But
they were so pleasant that most of us were willing to overlook Kozelek's
numbing consistency-- or, at least, we couldn't bring ourselves to criticize
such an apparently delicate man. Kozelek, after all, was addicted to drugs by
the age of ten. Ten, people! I think he has the right to bleed onto
every record, if he so desires.
Of course, Kozelek kicked his drug habit before forming the Red House Painters,
and in 1992 he began a new love/hate relationship: with London's respected 4AD
imprint. The "hate" part came in 1996, when label head Ivo-Watts Russell wanted
to edit the long guitar jams on Songs for a Blue Guitar. Kozelek didn't
yield, and took the record to Supreme Recordings, which released the album as
it was. Unfortunately, not everything was resolved by this maneuver. In 1998,
Red House Painters recorded Old Ramon, which will finally see release
in late April through Sub Pop after years of being tied to contractual
obligations with the now-defunct Supreme.
So Kozelek needed a change. He split off from his band, recorded an acoustic
potpourri of covers (John Denver, AC/DC) and original material, and released
the album through the Badman Recording Co. in 2000. But Rock 'N' Roll
Singer hardly sounded like a change. And while the covers may seem unusual
to some fans, they're no surprise to those aware of Kozelek's history with odd
remakes; in the past, he's refashioned the likes of Kiss, the Cars, and Yes,
to name a few. But something must have really hit home with those three AC/DC
covers, because now they've appeared on a whole album's worth of acoustic
interpretations of Bon Scott-era AC/DC. Cock rock, meet your new partner: wuss
folk.
Admittedly, I've never been a big fan of AC/DC, but I have heard enough of
their '70s output-- capped off by 1979's Highway to Hell-- to know
that this is a strange marriage. Surprisingly, though, Kozelek makes the
hard classics sound introspective simply by placing their lyrics in a plaintive
musical context. If there's one positive remark to be made about What's Next
to the Moon, it's that it sheds revelatory light on the subjective nature
of lyrics. Yet, that might be the only truly positive remark this album
deserves. Sure, Kozelek's voice is still smooth and sad, and his guitarwork is
still deft, yet modest. But these are standard factory settings.
Once again, he's made music that just about everyone would describe as
"pleasant." Except, that is, for die-hard AC/DC fans, who would most certainly
be appalled at what Kozelek has done to their sex anthems. Suddenly, "Love at
First Feel" isn't about statutory rape, but about a falling in love in spite
of reason. And "Bad Boy Boogie" is the fatalistic admissions of a helpless
rebel, not the sexual boasts of a misogynist. Fooled me.
Not that some sentiments here don't seem written for Kozelek. The first number,
"Up to My Neck in You," begins, "Well, I've been up to my neck in trouble/ Up
to my neck in strife/ Up to my neck in misery/ For most of my life." Here, his
languid delivery suits the material. But when he exerts the same energy for,
say, "Walk All Over You" or "If You Want Blood," he's no longer convincing.
And other times, the lyrics just don't fit Kozelek, as hard as he tries to
sensitize them. On "Love at First Feel," for instance, he sings, "I don't know
what your name is/ I don't know what your game is/ I'm gonna take you tonight,
animal appetite." Go get 'em, foxy.
In the liner notes to his latest part-covers album, Johnny Cash wrote, "I
worked on these songs until it felt like they were my own." Kozelek doesn't
seem to have done this at all. Instead, these tracks seem to have been worked
on less than most "MTV Unplugged" sets. There are a couple high points: the
bluesy title track, which sounds like a cut from Mark Lanegan's infinitely
more successful covers album, I'll Take Care of You. And Kozelek's
vocals hit previously uncharted highs on "You Ain't Got a Hold on Me," where
he briefly inhabits the ghost of the sane Brian Wilson.
But overall this is Red House Painters lite, with one of Kozelek's most vital
assets-- his confessional honesty-- entirely absent. Now he really needs a
change if he wants to keep our interest. A big change, like reinterpreting his
own songs as testosterone-fueled arena rock.
-Ryan Kearney