Originally
published in Skyscraper
If you’re gonna mock
the Beatles, it goes without saying that you’d better be
possessed with a singular wit. Fortunately, Edwyn Collins possesses
such a wit, so on his superb new album Doctor Syntax, he pulls
off “The Beatles” with aplomb. It’s a deceptively
simple song which reduces the history of the Beatles to four tidy
minutes, and in doing so, casually dismisses them—or at
least parodies the reverence of their more rabid fans. Collins
accomplishes this feat with a light enough touch that some folks
may interpret his tune as homage.
He mines this witty, often lacerating vein
to great effect throughout the album. Chipper handclaps accompany
him on the delightfully menacing “No Idea,” and he
disrupts the song with a kazoo break, which somehow manages to
blend right in. Then, as if the song weren’t disturbing
enough, Collins interrupts “Back to the Backroom”
with a line or two of “Good Ship Lollipop” to reinforce
his subject’s sad attachment to British memorabilia. He
delves liberally into his own (or someone’s) psyche, too.
“Splitting Up” merrily tells the tale of a man splitting
up, not with his wife or girlfriend, but with his self. And when
you decipher Collins’s falsetto lyrics on “Should’ve
Done That,” you discover a miserablist lamenting his own
impotence and confessing to devastating regret over lost romantic
opportunities. Something we can all identify with. (OK, something
I can identify with.) Still, in the middle of this lament, Collins
secures a laugh, suddenly introducing a rather bent version of
“This little piggy went to the market.” Doctor Syntax
is sodden with this self-deprecatory tone, and it’s best
represented by the following memorable lyrics from “Mine
Is At”: “See my lifestyle ain’t changed much,”
Collins sings, “I just take more risks / That’s remarkably
easy / When you’re remarkably pissed.”
Some critics lambasted Collins
last album, complaining that he tried to recreate his surprise
hit “A Girl Like You” several times over. On this
diverse disk, however, the music is literate, satirical and, most
important, groovy. Doctor Syntax is a lyrically ripe reminder
of just how little effort most musicians put into the words they’re
mouthing when they’re throwing those guitars around. Really,
it’s one of the most refreshingly creative efforts I’ve
heard this year. It’s likely, therefore, to disappear beneath
the tsunami of awkwardly simple and illiterate pop crushing the
charts here in the United States.
Robert Stribley
Official
Web site
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