The Sampler: Craig Finn, Open Mike Eagle, SJD

Elliott Childs reviews albums by American singer/songwriter Craig Finn, Art-rapper Open Mike Eagle and Dunedin's SJD.

A Legacy of Rentals by Craig Finn

Singer/Songwriter Craig Finn could easily slip into a career as a short story writer if the whole being a musician thing doesn’t work out for him. Though, admittedly he seems to be doing just fine having released numerous records as a solo artist as well as with his widely acclaimed band’s Lifter Puller and The Hold Steady.

But should he decide to change path, he already has a wealth of detailed narratives from which to pull in the form of his songs. One of the most common observations critics make about Finn’s writing is that his lyrics are primarily short stories, often featuring characters that he has mentioned before in previous albums. There is a sense that Finn is building his own world within his songs, one which is very much based on the dire circumstances some Americans find themselves in.

A Legacy Of Rentals, Finn’s fifth solo album, deals primarily with the idea of memory. It’s an idea that he clearly finds significant as he has also recently started a podcast where he talks to songwriters like Nick Lowe and Alison Moorer about the use of memory in song-writing.

The concept even plays into the instrumentation of the song. The album’s opening sound is a synth line that could easily be the effect used to underpin a flash-back in a Saturday morning cartoon from years gone by. A small flash of nostalgia, which, for those of you keeping score, makes it a memory, used as a metaphor for memory in a song about memories.

Presented in a spoken word style that Finn uses fairly regularly, the rest of 'Messing With The Settings' lays out a concise history of a relationship between two alcoholics, who drift apart following a drunk driving arrest. One to a new city and one to an early grave. Something in Finn’s delivery gives the sense, as many of these songs do, that you’re listening to the opening lines of a film or some talkative stranger in a dingy bar describing their life story to you.

An interesting part of the thinking behind A Legacy Of Rentals is that the song’s narrators are not necessarily reliable. As Finn says in the introduction to his podcast “Like all stories, they’re subject to the imperfection and limitations of memory, the distortion that happens to our own history when stretched by time and distance.” So whilst the tales in these songs certainly should not be taken as accurate representations of their writer’s life, they shouldn’t be taken as accurate portrayals of their protagonist’s lives either.

Memory, as well as it’s fallible nature is a vital part of the human condition and like all good storytellers, Finn is using the characters he writes to essentially examine what makes people who they are whilst simultaneously drawing from the world around him. Like Finn, the people mentioned in this album appear to be white mid-westerners, most of whom have some strong regrets in life. His characters are flawed, some are desperate, some are hopeful, and some are frankly unlikeable, but all of them are thoroughly believable.

 

Component System With The Auto Reverse by Open Mike Eagle

At the end of the track named ‘TDK Scribbled Intro’ Open Mike Eagle says the line “I don’t always have the words for the feelings. So I made you a tape.”

And with that he perfectly encapsulates the thinking behind his eighth album, A Tape Called Component System With The Auto Reverse.

The title refers to a type of hi-fi system that was readily and cheaply available in the 90s and early 2000’s and typically featured a radio, CD player and a dual cassette deck, making it the perfect miniature recording studio for creating mixtapes.

Eagle’s witty and introspective lyrics have always been littered with pop culture references. He makes no bones of his love for anime, old tv shows and 90’s indie rock bands, yet on Component System his references take on an especially nostalgic twist.

Even the track titles refer to objects of the past. The shuttered electronics retailer Circuit city, Multi Game Arcade cabinets and the long extinct CD Only Bonus track all name tracks on this album.

And whilst Eagle is not shy about name dropping Wu Tang Clan and Roger Rabbit in the same verse, he’s self-conscious enough to call himself a grown man with toddler habits on the opening verse of 'Crenshaw And Homeland'.

Whilst his previous album, Anime Trauma Divorce, found Eagle processing the fallout of his split from his wife amongst other personal setbacks, Component System finds him in the mood to reflect on less immediate history.

'For DOOM' is a lament for the much revered and enigmatic MC MF DOOM, who died in 2020. Eagle’s collaboration with DOOM on his 2018 album Czcarface Meets Metalface, is clearly a personal highlight, despite the fact that the two never met.

Eagle describes his admiration for doom, memorizing his lyrics and even having a piece of art featuring him on his living room wall, before expressing his shock at hearing of DOOM’s premature death. His hero plays a final trick on him however when he notices that the man in picture is an imposter, a stunt that the mask wearing MF DOOM would play from time to time on unsuspecting crowds.

As Component system progresses, its tone becomes more whimsical and free flowing compared to the more down to earth first half of the album. The penultimate track, 'Kites', is a breezy series of instructional letters which feels as if it could have been written at any time between 1990 and now. It features brilliantly executed verses from Still Rift and Video Dave, two MCs who appear throughout the album but have few credits outside of previous collaborations with Eagle.

Component System feels very much like a homemade mixtape. There is a definite flow from track to track yet it does not have the shiny, polished feel of a slickly produced hip-hop album, which seems very much intentional. Eagle has nailed the concept perfectly and the result is amongst some of his strongest work to date.

 

Sweetheart by SJD

The instantly recognisable voice of Tami Neilson sings the chorus of 'My Exploding Head', the opening song to Sweetheart, the new album from Ōtepoti (Dunedin) based musician Sean James Donnelly, better known as SJD.

There’s a strong disco feel to the track and Neilsen’s powerhouse voice fits perfectly into the chorus, simultaneously stealing the show and elevating the entire performance. She is not the only collaborator on this album though as Don McGlashan, Anika Moa, Julia Deans and a host of other Kiwi musicians feature on one track or another.

'I Just Can’t Wait' makes ample use of arpeggiated synth tones and vocal layering to create a modern song with a very nostalgic sound.

Then there are the disconcerting heart monitor beeps that serve as bridge between verse and chorus that play into the medical overtones of the lyrics.

Donnelly also hints here at the anxiety and depression that seems to be the driving force behind so much music in a world reeling from the effects of a pandemic and the associated lockdowns.

And it’s far from the only track to discuss feelings of isolation and depression. In the Ray Davies-esque 'A Pocketful of Change' for example, Donnelly confesses to having spent a sunny day in the depths of an arcade, contemplating death through the medium of videogames.

That’s not to say that this album lacks humour. The call and response vocals on 'Good time', detailing a bizarre dream involving a party and a chainsaw juggler, are just one of several genuinely funny moments on this album. Though it is made clear that the wit is there despite the darkness.

'The Midas Glove', with its sound harking back to 90’s brit-pop, manages to capture this perfectly in its trajectory from a discussion of tea to anxiety and nervous ticks.

Donnelly has always been his own man when it comes to his music, never really adhering to one particular style or genre, even within the confines of one record.

Sweetheart is no different. This album veers from disco to pastoral folk in a way that somehow seems completely natural. Yet SJD’s production and songwriting skills are so well honed that none of these differing approaches feel forced or dishonest. Any hint that things may not be as they seem is clearly intentional and comes from Donnelly’s sly wit.

The albums closer 'Did Somebody Call My Name' finds Donnelly describing the struggle to connect with someone close to him through the darkness. It’s not the hopeful note you might want at the end of such an album, but it’s perfectly fitting.