If the early '90s was the era of the Breeders (just pretend, okay?), the early '00s just might be the era of the Brooders. The Brooders, led by an exciting cast of unmanly, oversensitive, introspective introverts, make music that is often euphemized as sad-rock or slow-core. Even the euphemisms are negative. This should tell you something.
It just so happens that Badman Recording Company has devoted its label to giving the suicidal among us a public forum. Job requirements at Badman are minimal-- a guitar, a voice, and a Prozac prescription. Talent scouting involves rubber gloves, a good eye, and a psychiatrist's dumpster. All the hard work has come with mixed success, scoring Badman some winners (e.g. Hayden), some most-of-the-time winners (e.g. Mark Kozelek), and now, a guy who could use a little boost. Counseling, maybe?
The man of whom I speak is named Brian Dunn. Dunn fronts a five-piece ensemble known as the Clairvoyants who presumably gain strength from being by themselves, yet spend much of that time lamenting their own solitude. Dunn's songs are slow and monotonous, dominated by several elements, the most notable of which is nothing in particular; it makes you wonder what the other four people were doing. And as for the monotony, I'm curious as to which mnemonic Dunn uses to keep the songs separate in his head.
Besides for the plethora of nothing, Dunn's voice occupies a decent amount of the foreground. It's a familiar one, a gaunt, meatless blend of Nick Drake, Chris Isaak and Brave Sir Robin's lead Minstrel. Now imagine compiling the orchestration of the first two and subtracting three out of every four notes, and you have, roughly, the Clairvoyants. Aroused? Maybe if you're a sloth.
A big part of it lacking emotional power is the oh-so-bad lyrics. Oh, they are so bad. In "Surface of the Water," for example, Dunn whines that, "You need me to keep you/ From harming yourself/ I know it's futile/ I know it's futile." He enunciates "futile" with the anal precision of James Lipton. It comes out as the perfectly pronounced compound of its components-- "few" and "tile"-- with loads of emphasis on the "tile" part.
Under a microscope, the Clairvoyants might make you wretch. However, if you do as I did and take a few steps back (concentrate on the Super Bowl, cook some dinner, IM your ex-girlfriend), Your New Boundaries makes for decent background music. The tones of Dunn's voice combined with his tasteful backing band are mellow, somber, and well-produced. But you can answer this question as well as I: is your record collection lacking "decent background music?" Is this a gap you need to fill? Do you really need stuff that absolutely refuses to grab your attention? Wouldn't your money be better spent on one of Badman's good releases? The answers are likely no, no, no, and yes. A wise move would be to set your new boundaries just short of the Clairvoyants.
