Singer In Search Of A Soul
Journeyman. Craftsman. Beautiful Loser. Formalist. All of these
callings
are difficult to hear on the fly. Sure, their practitioners can
blindside you now and then with a zinger that teaches a damned
old dog
new, catchy tricks. But, especially in a context that demands closer
attention (say, over the length of an album or, ugh, a career), the
songs often get as blandly predictable as an episode of "Home
Improvement."
Dave Pirner has been called one and all of the above by those for
whom
Zen Arcade is Robert Johnson: The Complete
Recordings in
an attempt to come to terms with their continuing pleasure with
Soul
Asylum's continuing inability to take a new direction. His career in
song traces the same depressive, therapy-thirsty steps from
hardcore
anger to grunge angst that Dinosaur Jr./Sebadoh have traversed
with a
jaded, uncertain single-mindedness that borders on obsession.
Those
obsessions finally paid off when they meshed with a jaded,
uncertain pop
moment, but it grew wearisome to keep hoping that Pirner would
eventually shake them and become preoccupied with something
else.
Let Your Dim Light Shine (1995) was the first time Pirner let
some new light shine in. The songs were his catchiest; the one-
liners
were his cleverest ("tried to get ahead but only got decapitated");
the
narratives told stories for telling's sake and were as deftly
constructed as a ... well, it's not for nothing that they called one
song "String of Pearls." But most importantly, several songs
showcased
pronouns in the third person (most notably, "she"), fixing the
spotlight
on the fact that not only were there other people in the world, but
that
they could be as jaded and uncertain as the auteur himself. Maybe
even
more.
Now, there was no particular reason why this development had to
occur at
that particular moment in Pirner's career. Indeed, Candy From
A
Stranger sadly makes it clear that his having finally seen the
light
was more than likely a fluke. And now we're faced with 11 more
acely-crafted tunes that leave you wondering why, after almost 15
years,
has this man not gotten over this strange relationship or that
goddamn
job.
Let's talk about "No Time For Waiting" in this respect. The song
vaguely
recalls Sweet's "Fox on the Run" the way "Bittersweetheart"
vaguely
recalled "Summertime Blues" last time out; that is, they palm off of
milestones sexier and sunnier than Soul Asylum can probably
ever write
themselves. The same great snare-drum pomp counts out every
beat. It
even has some of that faux-prog synth action happening. A fine
song.
Unquestionably.
But, jeez, wouldn't you rather listen to "Fox on the Run," especially
when confronted with Pirner's latest crybabyisms? He whines
about the
same "no way out" situations ("it's enough to make you stay, it's
enough
to make you go away") and the same "nobody-understands-me"
lots in life
("you don't understand
how I'm feeling," ugh!). And the song as a whole fits too nicely into
the album's theme of time wasting away. He could have at least
sung the
chorus ("There's n-no time for waiting") the way Sweet sang "F-
Foxy!"
Then again, the comparison is probably unfair since Sweet were
the
greatest group of all time.
I don't want to overstate my disappointment with this album. I like it
fine. Pirner remains an above-average songwriter and his voice is
gaining more and more shades of emotion. There's really not a
bad song
in the bunch. I even had "Draggin' The Lake" in my head during a
waking
sleep a few nights ago. And the longest song is 4:45, with the
album
finishing out a hair over 45 minutes. So long-windedness is not
Pirner's
problem.
But the promise held forth on Let Your Dim Light Shine
seems to
have prematurely diminished. It's evident that the attraction of
country
music for Pirner lies in its pathos and not in its amazing sense of
narrative detail and concision, or even its pinched, white soul. And
he
could stand a heaping helpful of the latter two. He needs to tell
more
stories (they can even be about him, as long as it tells a story). He
needs to stop relegating covers to crappy EPs and place some on
an album
for a change of pace. Ditto for stridently political songs like "P-9."
He's one of the more generous rockers out there.Why can't he get
generous with his full-length releases and air out that
homesick psyche once in a while?
Maybe we have to wait 'til next album, since he admits here that
he's
"Close" to peace of mind. In the meantime, there's still "The
Game." For
four and a half minutes, he lets his Husker Du down and recounts
a
jealous tug-of-war with a best friend's wife. It's the only track that
kept jumping out at me when I listened to it five times in a row
while
searching for cheap sex on AOL. Ten more of those and he'll
never be
hard to hear again.