It's the end of an era: An Adam Green record without a single dick joke or crack-cocaine reference. In fact, much of the former Moldy Peach's latest album, Minor Love, finds Green trying to obstruct the persona he's spent almost a decade fine-tuning. As occasionally funny as he was while cloaking his emotions with crudeness and junk-pop crooning, he was rarely as forthcoming as he is on his sixth solo outing. Minor Love suggests Green is interested in sometimes actually saying what he means, even if it's usually about how unavailable he actually is. "I had to be the schmuck who tries to be smart," he explains on highlight "Stadium Soul". At least this time, he doesn't need a Wayne Newton parody about a hooker to tell us.
Minor Love also finds Green in a different headspace musically as well, ignoring a long-standing predilection for cleanly expressed pop. Instead, the minimalist approach he takes with most of these songs-- with their simple constructions and complete lack of production value-- confirms an interest in a rawer feel. Part of this might also have something to do with Green retroactively slipping into the skin of the leather-jacketed SoHo rocker he might have secretly always wanted to be. Single "What Makes Him Act So Bad" boasts a frighteningly good Lou Reed approximation, playing like a gem of an old Velvet Underground demo. "Stadium Soul" and "Give Them a Token" both share a similar downtown-cool appeal, yet still retain a helpful bit of the sweetness and whimsy found in Green's earlier work.
It's on these tracks that Green really hits his mark, now posing like those old New York City contemporaries of his did a decade ago (a time he spent famously dicking around in a Robin Hood costume). So it's a little disappointing to see him lose sight of this for the remainder of the album, filling in the gaps with paced acoustic tunes and the occasional weird one-off. There's even a handful of surprisingly appealing urban cowboy ballads, most of which would seem less out of place if there weren't as much authentic investment in their dusty-trail aesthetic. From the ominous but goofy showdown vibe of "Buddy Bradley" to the bizarre campfire tale "Boss Inside", what seems like ripe pranking ground for Green results in a few pleasant left turns, even if they ultimately don't end up sticking.
Despite its strong first quarter, Minor Love fails to stick. Though there's a nice sense of humor throughout, there's just not enough meat on the bone to inspire any sort of real investment in the majority of these songs. They're simple, fuzzy, and occasionally quite hooky, but most lack any sort of magnetic element that would require a second spin. You hate to admit it, but at least the old Green had a little shock value to fall back on when things came out a little watery. And even though it's fun to watch Green turn a wacky phrase or brighten things with a peculiar image, it's pretty clear that Green still prefers hiding behind the obtuse vagary he's grown so accustomed to. "I've been too awful to ever be thoughtful," he confesses on opener "Breaking Locks". A lot of Minor Love suggests otherwise-- I just wish he could've rolled with it.
