Musically, Mike Bones' second solo album is a not-unwelcome departure from the sounds and pedigree of his debut. While the Social Registry is still the label that pays him, and he's reaching out to the same group of New Yorkers that helped him out the first time around, A Fool For Everyone is an effort that's decidedly more "rock" and less "indie." Where The Sky Behind the Sea emphasized the textures and spaces in his songs, the new album is more interested in giving a platform to show off his hot licks and bluesy grooves. Coupled with a cover that recalls the hirsute pose jazz flautist Herbie Mann struck for his 1971 album, Push Push, A Fool For Everyone affects the airs of a not-unpleasant 1970s-era singer-songwriter LP-- had this been released 10 years ago, Bones might've found himself with a Drag City label deal and on tour trading solos with Jim O'Rourke during the latter's Eureka/Insignificance phase. Unfortunately, as with his first album, the pleasing airs last only as long as Bones chooses to ignore the "singer" portion of the equation.
I don't mean this as a slight against Bones' singing voice, though its flatness-- coupled with an aw-shucksy tic-- pushes it into acquired-taste territory. That said, the album's bluesy tenor does wonders to mitigate its shortcomings, something that the debut's spacious environs couldn't do. With Fool, the problems mostly reside in the words that Bones sings. Throughout the album, Bones aims to offer poetic yet plain-spoken bon mots about the hard knocks of the human condition. What he ends up with is obvious images and unsurprising rhyming couplets.
If Lou Reed, as Lester Bangs once surmised, was a student of the "I walked to the chair/ Then I sat in it" school of lyrics, then Bones can consider himself a certified graduate of the "I walked to the chair/ It had four legs and was made of wood" community college. In other words, when he sings "show the vampire my biggest vein," it's no surprise that he follows up with "make two holes for the blood to drain." It starts with the despondent verses of "Today the World Is Worthy of My Loathing", and continues all the way through "Everybody's Coming Down on Me". In case it's not obvious by those lugubrious song titles, Bones presents himself as a hard-luck, sad sack. "Hate and shame fill me," he muses on "Much More Than Love", which might be why, as he notes in "Like a Politician", that "the meanness of the world [has] prematurely lined my face." But what can you do? "The heart's a vicious master," he warbles on "Give Up on Guitars", "but we've given him our word." And so on, ad nauseum.
Hopefully Bones knows enough never to heed the advice of that aforementioned song title. When he keeps quiet and lets the music (and especially his guitar playing) do the talking, the album shines. The gradual crescendo of "What I Have Left", where Bones' harried strums are slowly matched up with a rush of piano and strings and rolling drums, is by far the disc's musical highlight. It's followed by the woozy violin-led torpor of "Much More Than Love", the one song that comes closest to fitting Bones' lyrical and vocal bent. But as I mentioned previously, the music's not the problem here-- hit "Mute" on Bones the Singer, and the tracks on A Fool For Everyone would be more than capable of serving another vocalist's needs. If there are more Mike Bones records planned for the future, it might behoove him to focus solely on his six-string.
