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The Lonesome Organist, "Forms and Follies"
Thrill Jockey
Steel-drum-led instrumentals give way to doo-wop laments about the woesand ways of love and foot-tapping jazz freak-outs glide into floweryaccordian pieces that somehow get me thinking about coffee, fine wines,and men in really cool, really dark sunglasses. I think it is safe tosay that Jeremy Jacobson's mind must be a mishmash of medievaltroubadours, pop stars, and drunken French lovers. All but one of thesongs are under three minutes—and most are under two—yet the music allgels together somehow. Perhaps this phenomenon has something to do withthe fact that Jacobson plays every instrument on every song (except fortwo) and sometimes plays them simultaneously. Forms and Folliesjumps from Motown to classically-arranged canons effortlessly andquickly without being too scatter-brained. The album, despite thenumerous influences it draws from, feels incredibly focused. When thesleepy, soft-as-a-pillow serenity of "Walking to Weston's" suddenlyflew into over-drive and "Who's to Say Your Soul's Not Carbon" rocketedthrough my ears, I only smiled and marveled at how well it all seemedto fit together and make perfect sense. The last four tracks are a purejoy to listen to and make for great night music (the sound of cricketsis the perfect accompaniment to these whimsical piano pieces). "NoPlace for My Kitten" is particularly incredible, however: heavilyprocessed vocals scratch and struggle to break free of their prisonwhile an almost remorseful accordian-led melody plays calmly andunsuspectingly over the top. My only gripe is that this album is justover thirty-two minutes long and when something sounds this good, Ialways want more.
Steel-drum-led instrumentals give way to doo-wop laments about the woesand ways of love and foot-tapping jazz freak-outs glide into floweryaccordian pieces that somehow get me thinking about coffee, fine wines,and men in really cool, really dark sunglasses. I think it is safe tosay that Jeremy Jacobson's mind must be a mishmash of medievaltroubadours, pop stars, and drunken French lovers. All but one of thesongs are under three minutes—and most are under two—yet the music allgels together somehow. Perhaps this phenomenon has something to do withthe fact that Jacobson plays every instrument on every song (except fortwo) and sometimes plays them simultaneously. Forms and Folliesjumps from Motown to classically-arranged canons effortlessly andquickly without being too scatter-brained. The album, despite thenumerous influences it draws from, feels incredibly focused. When thesleepy, soft-as-a-pillow serenity of "Walking to Weston's" suddenlyflew into over-drive and "Who's to Say Your Soul's Not Carbon" rocketedthrough my ears, I only smiled and marveled at how well it all seemedto fit together and make perfect sense. The last four tracks are a purejoy to listen to and make for great night music (the sound of cricketsis the perfect accompaniment to these whimsical piano pieces). "NoPlace for My Kitten" is particularly incredible, however: heavilyprocessed vocals scratch and struggle to break free of their prisonwhile an almost remorseful accordian-led melody plays calmly andunsuspectingly over the top. My only gripe is that this album is justover thirty-two minutes long and when something sounds this good, Ialways want more.
