John Vanderslice's music doesn't change much from album to album. Within the world of indie rock, he's carved him a niche all his own with clean but inventive production and lyrics that spend much of their time in the heads of unique characters. Vanderslice makes thoroughly modern pop, cut through with concerns about terrorism, disease, our ever-growing distance from nature, and our addiction to mass media. Even without varying his basic formula much, he manages to stay interesting from album to album. Romanian Names, his seventh solo record, is no exception, and it also happens to contain some of the best songs of his career.
Though you'd never guess this was anyone but Vanderslice, and the sound is consistent with earlier records, Romanian Names has a somewhat different feel. The production (a joint venture with long-time collaborator Scott Solter) is as meticulous as ever, but there's something about these songs that feels more natural, as if they took less effort to write but still came out just as good. Perhaps it's simply timing-- Vanderslice has moved well beyond the post-9/11 dread that dominated Pixel Revolt and Emerald City, and his voice seems to appreciate the shift in tone. That's most clearly in evidence in the glowing falsetto harmonies of lead track "Tremble And Tear", the most beguiling opener of any of his albums yet. The big, descending melodic hook is joined by a Robert Fripp-ish guitar part, and Vanderslice balances the big vocal with a sparse bassline and sharp drums-- the snare is the only hard sound in an otherwise pillowy song.
The record's second half has some immediately bracing indie-pop songs in the easy-going "Sunken Union Boat" and absurdly fluid "Carina Constellation", the latter of which features Vanderslice's best self-harmonization on the album, with lyrics that seem to be about two people getting off scot-free for a crime they really committed. Those songs' down-tempo counterparts are often just as good. The title track is sung from the perspective of a man in love with a gymnast whose pressurized life might finally be getting the best of her. The ghostly pulse of "Forest Knolls" frames a quiet rumination from Vanderslice as he looks out the window at some deer in the yard, realizing he'd never know what to do if he had to hunt for his own food and lashing himself with guilt for losing the knowledge of his ancestors.
There are plenty more moments to enjoy on Romanian Names, from the bounce of "C&O Canal" to the electro campfire sing-along of "D.I.A.L.O.", the slow back-to-nature majesty of "Too Much Time" and the lonely cello that closes the album. Vanderslice hasn't made a bad record, but he's only made a couple that are this good. If you've never dipped an ear into his world before, Romanian Names is a great place to do it.
