At some slick-- but not too slick-- hotel lounge in some second-tier metropolis, The International Association of Misanthropic Singer/Songwriters convenes for their secret, annual conference. After a bitter welcome speech by chairman-at-large Elvis Costello, the conventioneers migrate to the piano bar for sour cocktails and punny piano jazz courtesy of association member Ben Folds. Conversation topics focus largely on self-aggrandizing tales of how former bullies now quiver in the presence of their still puny, yet now famous victims, what a pain in the ass ex-girlfriends and ex-wives can be, and why after over thirty years of existence, the association is still predominated by middle-class white men. At dinner, association members are served six courses of mediocre food, snarl sarcastically at the waiting staff, and play ironic word games while trying to ignore the infernal whining of recently disciplined Association Secretary Rivers Cuomo. After a workshop on writing evil epithets to ex-band members (who may or may be pursuing litigation), the members retire to their uncomfortable hotel rooms to groan at the television and think up new synonyms for 'acrid.'
Sean Tillmann (aka Sean Na Na) would be one of the youngest attendees, sulking in the back at an indie table, passing notes on cocktail napkins and wondering why no one invited Cheap Trick. Like his more famous brethren, Sean Na Na airs his complaints over an eminently catchy pop soundtrack. On My Majesty, he largely sheds his folky, singer/songwriter persona in favor of full-band integration. The broader instrumentation allows Sean the luxury of letting loose his power-pop persona, while deflecting a bit of the lyrical malice-- a nice move. Compare the upbeat album opener "Double Date" (with its handclaps, tambourines, and assorted pop conceits) with the solo piano-ballad closer "I Need a Girl" and you'll get what I'm talking about. It's easier to take Sean Na Na's tone in a pop song. The faux sincerity of the acoustic singer/songwriter schtick is a strange bedfellow to lyrics like, "I need a sugar mommy to pay for me because these days I'm just not earning my keep."
Conversely, Tillman does well when he keeps it light. I never thought I'd say this, but overindulgence in self-conscious smartassery-- once a seemingly ubiquitous tendency in indie-pop circles-- is a welcome respite from his earnest, confessional peers. There's something to be said for the man who actually sings, "The Easter Bunny came this year and brought no eggs," on "Give Me a B-Side" (which, despite absence of organ, sounds somewhat like better-than-average Quasi). The jangly, new wave-tinged "I Hate Saxophones" is hilarious and notable for its inclusion of the line, "All abandoned free jazz refugees should cooperate during questioning."
Sean Na Na's lighthearted take on big power-pop affectation a la Cheap Trick predominates throughout the album. The British Invasion-style would-be stadium rocker "Grew into My Body" (a look-who's-laughing-now tirade to a grade school bully) is a clear high point, as is the supremely pissed off, minor-keyed, lite-metal of "Big Trouble."
My Majesty could be a great album-- or rather, Sean Na Na could be seated at the head of the Misanthropic Pop Convention table-- were it not for mediocre production (note to upcoming power-popsters, lo-fi is preferable to timid hi-fi). I really want this to be louder, and I have the volume turned as high as building regulations will allow. Also, the single focus of the lyrics gets a little repetitive, especially when coupled with Sean Na Na's occasionally whiny vocals. That said, My Majesty is a considerable improvement on Sean Na Na's previous solo work. Sour, silly self-loathing you can dance to-- hardly revolutionary, but not a bad ride.
