Greatness is a curse. Nearly 30 years after they were recorded, Television's Marquee Moon and, to a lesser degree, Adventure still cast an intimidating shadow of influence and timelessness. And while the band was eventually mesmerizingly tight, it was always Tom Verlaine who was at the eye of the storm. He penned virtually every song, and his singular approach to the guitar made sure his extended solos never drew scorn-- even in the midst of the less-is-more milieu of punk and early new wave. So regardless of what musical avenues Verlaine wanted to explore post-Television, his fans-- myself included-- are perpetually and admittedly unfairly dissatisfied.
Now, 14 years since his last release, Verlaine has unveiled two new albums: the vocal Songs and Other Things and the instrumental Around. No, they are not Marquee Moon Revisited, but based on the players he's chosen to collaborate with, it seems he's trying to recapture some of his former glory. On Songs, Verlaine is joined by a host of musicians including Patti Smith Group drummer Jay Dee Daugherty and Television bassist Fred Smith, while Around's timekeeping belongs solely to Television drummer Billy Ficca. Somehow, though, the chemistry just isn't there.
Songs' best moments occur when Verlaine complicates the pop formula with serious tension. On "Orbit", for example, the song oscillates between spritely verses and dark, brooding choruses. Elsewhere, though, Verlaine's songwriting suffers from a legacy of imitators: "The Earth Is in the Sky" sounds like it could have been an outtake from Luna's Penthouse (to which Verlaine contributed some searing solos).
Around, on the other hand, is a less memorable listen by sheer dint of what it is: an instrumental album. Too many of the songs are flimsy and fragmentary, never shaping into anything substantial and coming across like incidental music. This makes sense, given Verlaine has been scoring silent films from the archives of the Columbus, Ohio-based Douris Corporation since 1999. But without a context to lend an emotional charge, these songs are too sparse and atmospheric to be truly affecting music.
Even if neither Songs nor Around match Verlaine's best work, much of his vitality remains in tact. On Songs' "Nice Actress", he outdoes Lou Reed for detachment, aloofly spitting lines like: "Never said you were some fucked up act-uh." And his guitar playing is still stunning, veering from fluttering, singing lines to noisy squalls that detonate without warning. But, apart from such expressive guitar work, these songs are dim and winking in comparison to Verlaine's bygone triumphs.
