Rob Crow owes us a new Pinback LP; that much, he knows. And the shadow of the California compulsive's most famous band's unfinished work seems to loom over He Thinks He's People, Crow's fourth solo effort. People got its start as something of a warm-up for Pinback's long-awaited follow-up to 2007's Autumn of the Seraphs; a relatively modest affair, at times almost seeming as though it's saving its strength. But, while People doesn't set its sights especially high, as another showcase of Crow's multifaceted, pinprick-pristine songcraft-- and a sort of low-key sneak preview of the new Pinback LP-- it's a small success.
People primarily draws from murkily precise post-grunge and morose Elliott Smith-style balladry, cut with hints of hardcore, power-pop, and prog. Crow's laconic delivery gives the LP its distinctive mark; with a calm smirk, he centers the music, allowing a blast of spazz-punk to sit comfortably alongside a bit of intricate acoustic fretwork. Cloudy and labyrinthine at times, airy and placid elsewhere, People cuts a pretty wide swath, an approach that feels a bit more mature and confident than the bending over backwards he sometimes had to do to reach the disparate genres on his earlier solo records.
But one can't quite shake the feeling that a lot of these songs haven't been given the fleshing out they should have. One of People's finest moment, Either/Or-nodding self-effacer "Pat's Cabs", matches a descending strum to a downtrodden melody that, halfway through, transforms itself, its quiet desperation taking a sharp turn toward the rousing. All this happens in just 65 seconds; then it's over, onto the chiming "So Way". This could've been the record's centerpiece, melodically rich and deeply moving; instead, it's something of a tease, just on the cusp of affecting. It's rare that Crow lets you get comfortable in a track before letting it veer into the next one, which-- when coupled with its frequent tone shifts-- lends the record a somewhat sketchbook-like quality. As ever, Crow is an impressive arranger, his claustrophobic compositions offer just enough room to uncoil, and even when the songs feel dashed-off, they rarely sound it. The driving "Build" isn't much of a tune, but it gets by on sheer propulsion. And while the knottier, Pinbackier stuff like "Tranked" or "Prepare to be Mined" don't quite affix themselves to your skull the way the best of that band's output can, one can certainly see why they were up for consideration.
Sweeping post-punker "Locking Seth Putnam in a Hot Topic" (a tribute of sorts to the late Anal Cunt frontman) ushers in a late-LP shift that largely continues through the rickety "I'd Like to Be There" and the dewy sheen of "Hangnailed". This sequence finds Crow easing up on the tricky rhythms and the guitar tangles that are his stock-in-trade, drawing on Americana for inspiration, and bringing its dinger first half out into the late-afternoon light. These lilting, levity-imbued tunes never once feel like they're waiting on Crow to complete his thought, nor are they auditioning for a walk-on role in Pinback's next one; rather, they send the record out on a high, finally fixing on that warmth Crow sought from People. Now he's got some work to do.
