In the early ’00s, when Cass McCombs and I were both living in Baltimore, we knew each other a little bit. We weren’t friends or anything; I doubt he’d remember me. But we had mutual friends and we’d see each other at parties and stuff. At one point, he toured with a backing band comprised entirely of guys I knew from around town; I think most of them are in Arbouretum now. One Halloween, when his hair was just sproingy and not yet scraggly, he dressed as Robert Smith from the Cure and pulled it off admirably. Most of the girls I knew had crushes on him, and he was an absolutely pleasant dude. But even then, everyone around the small city’s small scene regarded him with a sort of hushed reverence. The first time I saw him, he was opening for the Oranges Band, playing first on a four-band bill, and it might’ve been one of his first shows. The small early-arrival crowd knew it was seeing something special. When the Oranges Band, scene elders at the time, took the stage a few hours later, they admitted to being impressed. Cowed, even.
I mention all this because McCombs has become one of the great mercurial figures in indie rock; an unknowable sylph of a voice declaiming knotty but meaningful-seeming insights over hushed but classicist mutations of old-world rock and roll. Peep this recent contentious Pitchfork interview, in which McCombs absolutely freezes out my friend Ryan, answering probing questions as elusively as he possibly can. In a short period of time, McCombs has built quite a catalog; Humor Risk is his second album of 2011 and his sixth overall. The way he cranks these albums, each one a shade different from the one preceding it, reminds me of the way singer-songwriters used to do it, back when you weren’t expected to sequester yourself for a couple of years and emerge with a new magnum opus. McCombs hasn’t released his masterpiece and he probably never will; the way he works is almost a rebuke to the idea of the masterpiece. 2009′s Catacombs is probably my favorite of his albums, but that probably says more about me than it does about him. It’s the album where the simple Buddy Holly/Roy Orbison sweetness running through his music is at its most prominent, and I like that stuff.
The new Humor Risk also approaches that sound, albeit in a few different ways. It follows immediately after WIT’S END, which was stark and heady and mostly drum-free. Musically, Humor Risk is a whole lot breezier. “Robin Egg Blue” is an acoustic-guitar lilt, “Love Thine Enemy” an airy chug, “Mystery Mail” a quasi-Stones boogie with some serious bite to it. The songs are catchy and fun. But even at their lightest, there’s a lot to wrap your head around. McCombs is the person who willfully confounded his entire audience with “AIDS In Africa” on his first album, and even though there’s no immediately mind-warping lyrical moment like this on Humor Risk, I don’t really want to comment on his lyrics right now. I haven’t been living with them long enough. You need time to pick through what this guy says, to pull your own meanings from it.
In his productivity and his lyrical pointedness and his enigmatic nature, McCombs reminds me of a ’00s version of ’90s-era Bill Callahan, back when he was still Smog. Except — and this is just one man’s opinion — I think he’s a way better songwriter. Nothing Callahan ever did has stuck with me the way “When The Bible Was Wrote” and “That’s That” and “Dreams-Come-True-Girl” and “The Lonely Doll” have. Humor Risk, too, has tracks that’ll linger with me like those. And just generally, it’s thrilling to watch McCombs, a guy I used to know, continuing to build a body of work that few of his generation can match. Salut.
Humor Risk is out today on Domino.
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Consistency despite changing his tone is one thing I enjoy most about Cass. My only gripe is that unlike Wit’s End, Domino isn’t giving this release the cassette treatment.
Footnote: Who don’t you know and where haven’t you lived, Tom?
Oh, I’m a Baltimore dude for life. I’ve lived a couple different places, but that’s where I was born and where I’ll always rep. Do I know that many people? I don’t think I do. Brandon, who was here before me, becomes friends with like every single person he ever interviews. That almost never happens with me.
That’s not a bad thing, though, either. Speaking with the people I listen to is something I’ve always been timid about. Not that I’ve ever had the chance, but I’ve never gone out of my way to make habit out of it. I learned that the hard way when a certain indie rocker who is very well liked by basically everyone once lamented into me with tweets and direct messages because he misunderstood the wording of a tweet I had mentioned him in. It was pretty surreal, because here I am sitting at home watching my inbox light up with Twitter messages from this guy not understanding what the heck was going on and despite clarifying the wording (which resulted in him removing his angry tweets) it definitely left a bad taste in my mouth. To this day, when I see everyone propping him up about how DIY and awesome he is, I just think, “Oh look, there’s that jerk who railed into me because he’s unfamiliar with sarcasm…”
Michael_, I think something you might say things which personally attack people/their family and then, when they take offense, you say the person misunderstood you and that you’ve supported them in the past.
And I would bet my balls that is what happened here.
No disrespect, just an observation/single-incident-based assumption (no based-god).
- Tilla.
Now here’s an Album of the Week I can get behind. I haven’t listened to it as much as WIT’S END (yet), but I like the direction of this album a lot, pluz the extra fuzz on the guitars gives me a music-boner.
Kudos ‘Gum, Kudos.
probably the ONLY songwriter that matters today. name me another one
Noah Lennox, Ariel Pink, Ed Droste, Jesy Fortino, Julianna Barwick, and Kurt Vile just to name a few.
Noah and Ariel, sure. Kurt Vile is cool and makes enjoyable music, but I would not call him great songwriter. Julianna is more of a composer than anything else. The only contemporary songwriter I can think of who trumps the guy would be Joanna Newsom.
Yeah…. I would consider Julianna Barwick a songwriter… i would also say that Kevin Barnes is probably a better songwriter than Cass Mccombs. As well as Anthony Gonzalez. Avey Tare is probably better too. i think Cass is great, and Humor Risk is probably one of my favorite records of the year.. But there are a lot of songwriters around that are probably a little better than him. Dave Longstreth is better too.
This guy named Bradford something or other.
But I believe ddogdunit was talking about solo artists or singer/songwriters.
mostly agree, not about panda bear (vastly overrated) or ed droste (who sings pretty and can play power chords, but at this point puts out watered down albums every 3 yrs, as opposed to cass who can put out 2 potent albums in 1).
Bill Motherfucking Callahan.
Tru Dat. Apocalypse is the best-written/crafted album of the year, hands down, and it’s gotten short shrift.
Callahan…..Maybe. But i definitely would not throw Bradford Cox in this mix. All the best Deerhunter songs are Lockett Pundt songs. Will Oldahm is much better too.
yeah, parallax is SO average too. not his best work at all.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hey now.
I don’t underappreciate Pundt’s contribution to the band (Desire Lines may be my favorite Deerhunter song… just maybe), but Fluorescent Grey and Wash Off are Bradford, Saved by Old Times is Bradford, He Would Have Laughed, Earthquake, Helicopter, Revival, and Memory Boy are Bradford, so… Yeah.
Just sayin’
I forgot Coronado (written by Bradford), which also might be my favorite Deerhunter song. Depends on the day of the week though, because usually I’m a Pundt advocate.
OK, i’ll revise my statement, cass AND bill C are the only songwriters that matter today.
Ahem… Sufjan? He hasn’t been the subject of a blog post in a couple of months, but I don’t think that discounts his considerable accomplishments.
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So glad Cass McCombs is finally being recognized as the exceptional songwriter he is. His entire philosophy on his work feels so fresh…
I haven’t listened to this album yet, but Wit’s End was the shit.
Hey dere ‘Gum guys: why isn’t there an “Album of the Week” tag? It would be nice to be able to see ‘em all in once place. Just a thought.
did anyone mention patrick stickles…by far best songwriter of the past 10 years.