"Personal" is a word that can be used to describe approximately 98% of indie rock that's come out within the past 10 years, but it's still worth stating that singer/songwriter and ex-Titus Andronicus guitarist Andrew Cedermark's debut LP, Moon Deluxe, feels incredibly personal. The culmination of a series of scene-stealing split 7" appearances and featured spots on Underwater Peoples compilations, the album feels homespun, recalling Phil Elverum's defunct Microphones project in its attention to lo-fi detail. Whether he's rocking out or quieting down, you can practically hear him doing his thing in your basement-- well, until the neighbors call the cops, at least.
Because, yes there is a lot of rocking out on Moon Deluxe-- as you'd expect from an ex-Titus Andronicus guitarist-- and Cedermark lends extra oomph with his muscular guitar playing, which also recalls Elverum's own fancy fretwork. However, his own bombastic sound is far removed from that of his former act. You won't hear many call-to-arms chants or throat-shredding sloganeering here, as Cedermark's songwriting feels a little more introverted, making the sweeping, anthemic bursts of melody that close out "Ad Infinitum" and "Hard Livin'" less like teenage angst, more post-adolescent catharsis.
That intimacy owes more than a little bit to Cedermark's lyrical style, which favors fully realized thoughts and statements addressed in absentia. He writes in complete sentences, e.g. from "Your Dream Is Killing Me": "I could've built a fire with these desires, and if nobody knows, the heat will still glow." Elsewhere, on the title track, he expresses a unique disappointment that stems from isolation: "My loneliness was pure until someone noticed it." As hard as it is to lyrically convey one's emotions, it's even harder to achieve that task with a level of artifice, which makes it all the more impressive that Cedermark succeeds at both. When the lyrics on Moon Deluxe aren't confessional, they're evocative, even mythical, sure to invoke comparisons to Jeff Mangum.
Another trait that Moon Deluxe shares with Neutral Milk Hotel's catalog: there's a temptation to overthink this stuff. Resist, and indulge instead in Cedermark's opulently lo-fi excesses. As a front-to-back record, this thing is a monster, with winding melodies that ebb and flow at just the right times, wall-crumbling feedback breakdowns, lots of glockenspiel, and one of the most satisfyingly raucous album closers in some time, "I Won't Know Me Anymore". The song kicks off with the burbling croak of horns and works itself into a heavy-strummed lather, as Cedermark sings through static about lust, nostalgia, and stealing beer. Just when you think the tune couldn't get any more gloriously overstuffed with paint-stripping guitar blasts and ramshackle breakdowns, Andrew enters a stream-of-consciousness spoken word rant about his future self's abandoning his family and decamping to a house by the beach: "I'm gonna live there all alone and watch the waves destroy the shore." Wherever he's going, however far off in the future, let's hope he keeps making records like this one.
