These days, it seems the inhuman aspect of technology is approaching status as a central theme within rock music. It's pretty logical, too-- music and technology have always been closely intertwined, from the development of the pianoforte in the early 18th century to the work of 20th century pioneers like Karlheinz Stockhausen and Robert Moog. Though technology has certainly allowed musicians to expand their sonic palettes, it seems many are eager to turn on it in varying capacities, ranging from the all-out attack of shitty industrial music to more subtle protests, such as the insistence on using crusty old recording equipment.
But Momus (aka Nick Currie) has never been a follower. Over the course of his career, he's gone from guitar-based folk music to unadulterated synth-pop to "analog baroque." And through all this, he's still found time to have a plaster cast of his penis made for display at a New York gallery, and write top-selling songs for Japan's favorite kinky little girl, Kahimi Karie.
With his latest album, Momus seems to have brewed together all the elements of his musical history-- including his oft-discussed member-- into the crazy, glitchy electro-folk record that he has christened Folktronic. And while, at times, Momus constructs a bitingly clever post-modern take on folk music, Folktronic has an unfortunate tendency to choke on its own concept, rendering the album a bit hard to swallow.
"Finnegan the Folk Hero" is the greatest success on the album-- a witty, entertaining update of a classic theme. The song presents the tale of Finnegan, an HTML wiz who's forced into obscurity by lack of pay, set against a backdrop of cheap Casio keyboards and drum machines. Musically, as well as lyrically, the song has roots in folk music; it's part western, part sea shanty. Momus' cheesy instrumentation somehow compliments the music perfectly, and the result is just the kind of clever enhanced-folk Momus was aiming for.
"Appalachia" is another, more eclectic example of Folktronic at its best, taking the timeless subject of the "Appalachian mountain girl," and placing her in a world of hyperactive drum machines, digital fuzz, and distorted baroque synthesizers. The lyrics are not quite as clever as those of "Finnegan," but are none the less palatable, and fit the Folktronic theme nicely. Further kudos go to Momus for the closing the album with three songs written for Kahimi Karie's Journey to the Centre of Me EP: "Lady of Shallot," "Mistaken Memories of Medieval Manhattan," and the awesomely fucked-up Brechtian "Pygmalism." Not only are these perhaps the strongest songs Momus has ever penned, but they also seem to fit into the record's conceptual mold quite well.
Sadly, many of Momus' other stabs at the "Folktronic" genre fall flat. "Mountain Music," a song based on a comment made by Johnny Cash about Beck having "that mountain music in him," wants to be a clever commentary on the way technology has changed access to different genres of music. Here, though, Momus gets a bit caught up in the idea, incessantly dropping names of persons (Massive Attack, Beck, and the late electronic innovator Bruce Haack, among others), and devices (the Rio MP3 player) alike. Though for the majority of the track, Momus pummels you over the head with his concept, he makes sure to include a few genuinely witty, amusing lyrics, such as "'Moon of Alabama' is my favorite country tune/ With lyrics by a communist and music by a Jew."
The rest of Folktronic is similarly mixed. Songs like "Tape Recorder Man" and "The Penis Song" pair clever, funny lyrics with crap music. And much of the rest of the album totters the line between simply mediocrity and forgettability with a few particularly obnoxious flaws like the '80s-inspired "Robocowboys" and the awkward, bluesy "Smooth Folk Singer."
Still, when taken as a whole, Folktronic's plusses certainly outweigh its minuses. This is Momus being Momus; he still sounds like Donovan, and he's still as quirky, arrogant, and witty as ever. Though the record is far from the genre-defining landmark Momus likely intended to be, it certainly ranks among his better works. My advice to diehard Momus fans: log off littlejapanesegirls.com, zip up your pants, and get your ass to the record store. The rest of you can take a hint from the man himself: put technology to use for you and pull a few tracks off Napster to see if it's your thing.
