State Songs

by

John Linnell

Edit

John Linnell, They Might Be Giants' gangly, boyishly handsome, lank-haired, right-handed accordion/keyboards/sax-playing half, actually began working on his "state songs" project around the time They were recording the classic 1988 LP Lincoln. As he was having difficulty coming up with song titles (which largely dictate the content of TMBG songs), he came up with the idea of simply naming songs after states; that way, he was guaranteed at least fifty titles, and he could approach songwriting in a fresh way -- letting each state name dictate the rhythm or musical style, but not offering the listener any hints as to what the lyrics will be about (sort of like how more mainstream songs just have girls' names for titles).

Linnell's solo CD State Songs (1999) features 15 of these tunes; a 16th, "Songs of the 50 States," is a goofy overview that promises, "I'm not gonna say they're great, I ain't gonna say they ain't," and such an equivocal attitude permeates this whole disc. As with anything TMBG-related, it needs to be approached with an open mind -- don't expect to find anything remotely educational or patriotic here, and don't expect to find much social commentary or self-revelation either. But while he's no Bruce Springsteen or Lucinda Williams, he does share their tendency to not just talk about places, but rather to tell stories and examine characters. "West Virginia" is a self-absorbed woman to whom the frustrated narrator tries to reach out ("You'll contin-ya to be constantly a part of you / You'll never part and you will be the party who will be partial to you"). "Idaho" is the destination of either a drug-addled fellow trying to "drive" his house or a musician taking his turn at the wheel of the tour bus while his bandmates sleep. I gather that the sparse lyrics of "Utah" concern a job applicant seeking employment from a former enemy; the jaunty "Maine" details a love-hate (or possibly sadomasochistic) relationship; and the touching "New Hampshire" deals with a vagabond who tries to fit in with polite society but only inspires feelings of fear and disdain in his hosts. On the other hand, many of Linnell's lyrics straddle a thin line between genuinely funny and plain silly. "Arkansas" and "Oregon" have the dignified, old-fashioned feel of actual state anthems, except that the former is about building a ship the exact size and shape of the state of Arkansas (and, if the state sinks, the possibility of the ship replacing it), while the latter simply asserts, "Oregon is bad, stop it if you can / Here it comes ... run away!" Similarly, the upbeat, polka-flavored "Michigan" could be adopted as a sporting-event "fight song," if not for lines like "Oh Michigan, exemplar of unchecked replication ... we must eat Michigan's brain!!" "Iowa" is a groovy synth-pop number asserting that the state is a broom-flying, black-wearing, cat-loving, spell-casting witch. The insanely catchy "South Carolina" mostly concerns a man injured in a bicycle crash, but this story is inexplicably peppered with references to eating snails and ordering cocktails (trust me, it's funnier than it sounds). "Montana" offers the truly silly notion of someone having a deathbed epiphany that "Montana was a leg," but it is totally redeemed by a gorgeous power-pop melody that could stand with the best of Marshall Crenshaw ("You're My Favorite Waste of Time," "Whenever You're on My Mind," etc.).

Indeed, the music on this disc is quite impressive overall. TMBG bandmate John Flansburgh discovered his inner funk-soul brother on Mono Puff's gleefully retro (but never musty) 1998 CD It's Fun To Steal; likewise, aside from a few traditional pop and rock grooves ("West Virginia," "Idaho," "Iowa," "Montana," "50 States"), Linnell takes the opportunity to experiment with sounds that you normally wouldn't find on a TMBG album. "Utah," "New Hampshire," and the instrumental "Illinois" are performed on carousel band organs, to lovely effect; "Iowa" features the sounds of a band organ AND a DustBuster, while "Idaho" employs an actual car alarm; "Mississippi" is a catchy if conventional instrumental, and "Pennsylvania" is a violin-driven track with minimalist lyrics. Most bizarre is the closer, "Nevada," essentially a 30-second song followed by about 7-and-a-half minutes of a passing parade that Linnell recorded out the window of the studio; like Mono Puff's "To Serve Mankind" and "Pretty Fly," or TMBG's own "Fingertips," this track is admirable for reflecting the artist's unique interests, even as it flirts with self-indulgence and risks putting off the average listener. I must also mention that Linnell has been blessed with a limited-but-warm, nasal twang that stands as one of alternative rock's most distinctive voices.

As much as I enjoy State Songs, however, it is ludicrous to conclude from it that Linnell has a monopoly on the talent in They Might Be Giants. While this sprawling album is surprisingly cohesive, it's not quite as consistent as It's Fun To Steal or some of the better TMBG albums (the self-titled 1986 debut, Lincoln, Factory Showroom). Also, Linnell's humor may be more willfully absurd and much less self-conscious than Flansburgh's, but I don't necessarily see Flansy's more traditional tendencies, his more straightforward lyrics, his versatile if not-so-distinctive voice, or his capacity for sweet pop songs as bad things; in fact, I think he complements Linnell's unconventional leanings quite nicely. Having heard both of Flansy's Mono Puff albums and now Linnell's solo work, it has become clear to me that both Johns are exemplars of pop songwriting at its most literate and daft, and that they truly bring the best out of each other.

(P.S.: Note to Mr. Linnell -- how 'bout a nice Nebraska song, or maybe even a cover of Springsteen's "Nebraska," for the next volume of State Songs?)