Search - John Linnell :: State Songs

Melodic, surreal, occasionally touching

Center Man | Norwich, CT United States | 02/21/2004

(4 out of 5 stars)

"I'd forgotten how good this was. When I first bought "State Songs" in 1999, it was as much out of curiosity as it was a holding action while I waited for They Might Be Giants' next album. The CD has been sitting on my shelf for the last few years, taking an invisible form with all the other silver platters.But it deserves to be blasted out all over this great land. John Linnell's brilliance as a songwriter shines through the record, and his rhythms, arrangements and melodies throughout the album are consistently amazing: Even with the carousel album merrily chugging along in the background, the songs have the mix of sweetness and melancholy you expect from TMBG, all set to a great beat. Linnell takes the concept of songs reflecting different emotional states and applies it to political states. So "Montana" is about enlightenment, "New Hampshire" rejection, and "Oregon" paranoia (I think). A number of these songs could be straight pop compositions with the substitution of a personal name: Turn "Maine" into "Jane," and the chorus becomes "Jane/At the top of the charts/Has crushed my evil heart." Post-modernism? Pop deconstruction? Whatever. It works, and mostly because Linnell doesn't take the concept too literally. Some of the songs are simple exercises in surrealism: "Arkansas," set to a lovely sea melody, is all about the doomed effort to sail a ship shaped like Arkansas ("on a scale of one to one"), and "Michigan" concludes with an exhortation to "eat Michigan's brain." But as in TMBG, where a song like "Metal Detector" is less about the metal detector than the loneliness of the person holding it, many of the states in the songs here frame character studies: some amusing, some touching. The infectious "South Carolina" is a humorous study of a man weighing the pluses and minuses of crushing his head in a bike accident; the aforementioned "New Hampshire" paints a funny and sad portrait of a "flower sniffing poet of New Hampshire." Occasionally you wish Linnell could write a straight album of songs, with conventional lyrics and feelings: His cover of "Darlin' Allison" on Gordon Gano's solo CD was a heartfelt, wistful ode to a lost love. But heck, could he really do it? And would we want him to? He can still touch people in his own eccentric manner, and the eccentricity makes him distinctive. "State Songs" is a great showcase for a great composer."

Good morning, America, how are you? I'm Dr. Worm

Gena Chereck | Nebraska, USA | 06/28/2003

(5 out of 5 stars)

"John Linnell, They Might Be Giants' gangly, boyishly handsome, lank-haired, right-handed accordion/keyboards/sax-playing half, actually began working on his "state songs" project around the time They were recording the classic 1988 LP Lincoln. As he was having difficulty coming up with song titles (which largely dictate the content of TMBG songs), he came up with the idea of simply naming songs after states; that way, he was guaranteed at least fifty titles, and he could approach songwriting in a fresh way -- letting each state name dictate the rhythm or musical style, but not offering the listener any hints as to what the lyrics will be about (sort of like how more mainstream songs just have girls' names for titles). Linnell's solo CD State Songs (1999) features 15 of these tunes; a 16th, "Songs of the 50 States," is a goofy overview that promises, "I'm not gonna say they're great, I ain't gonna say they ain't," and such an equivocal attitude permeates this whole disc. As with anything TMBG-related, it needs to be approached with an open mind -- don't expect to find anything remotely educational or patriotic here, and don't expect to find much social commentary or self-revelation either. But while he's no Bruce Springsteen or Lucinda Williams, he does share their tendency to not just talk about places, but rather to tell stories and examine characters. "West Virginia" is a self-absorbed woman to whom the frustrated narrator tries to reach out ("You'll contin-ya to be constantly a part of you / You'll never part and you will be the party who will be partial to you"). "Idaho" is the destination of either a drug-addled fellow trying to "drive" his house or a musician taking his turn at the wheel of the tour bus while his bandmates sleep. I gather that the sparse lyrics of "Utah" concern a job applicant seeking employment from a former enemy; the jaunty "Maine" details a love-hate (or possibly sadomasochistic) relationship; and the touching "New Hampshire" deals with a vagabond who tries to fit in with polite society but only inspires feelings of fear and disdain in his hosts. On the other hand, many of Linnell's lyrics straddle a thin line between genuinely funny and plain silly. "Arkansas" and "Oregon" have the dignified, old-fashioned feel of actual state anthems, except that the former is about building a ship the exact size and shape of the state of Arkansas (and, if the state sinks, the possibility of the ship replacing it), while the latter simply asserts, "Oregon is bad, stop it if you can / Here it comes ... run away!" Similarly, the upbeat, polka-flavored "Michigan" could be adopted as a sporting-event "fight song," if not for lines like "Oh Michigan, exemplar of unchecked replication ... we must eat Michigan's brain!!" "Iowa" is a groovy synth-pop number asserting that the state is a broom-flying, black-wearing, cat-loving, spell-casting witch. The insanely catchy "South Carolina" mostly concerns a man injured in a bicycle crash, but this story is inexplicably peppered with references to eating snails and ordering cocktails (trust me, it's funnier than it sounds). "Montana" offers the truly silly notion of someone having a deathbed epiphany that "Montana was a leg," but it is totally redeemed by a gorgeous power-pop melody that could stand with the best of Marshall Crenshaw ("You're My Favorite Waste of Time," "Whenever You're on My Mind," etc.). Indeed, the music on this disc is quite impressive overall. TMBG bandmate John Flansburgh discovered his inner funk-soul brother on Mono Puff's gleefully retro (but never musty) 1998 CD It's Fun To Steal; likewise, aside from a few traditional pop and rock grooves ("West Virginia," "Idaho," "Iowa," "Montana," "50 States"), Linnell takes the opportunity to experiment with sounds that you normally wouldn't find on a TMBG album. "Utah," "New Hampshire," and the instrumental "Illinois" are performed on carousel band organs, to lovely effect; "Iowa" features the sounds of a band organ AND a DustBuster, while "Idaho" employs an actual car alarm; "Mississippi" is a catchy if conventional instrumental, and "Pennsylvania" is a violin-driven track with minimalist lyrics. Most bizarre is the closer, "Nevada," essentially a 30-second song followed by about 7-and-a-half minutes of a passing parade that Linnell recorded out the window of the studio; like Mono Puff's "To Serve Mankind" and "Pretty Fly," or TMBG's own "Fingertips," this track is admirable for reflecting the artist's unique interests, even as it flirts with self-indulgence and risks putting off the average listener. I must also mention that Linnell has been blessed with a limited-but-warm, nasal twang that stands as one of alternative rock's most distinctive voices.As much as I enjoy State Songs, however, it is ludicrous to conclude from it that Linnell has a monopoly on the talent in They Might Be Giants. While this sprawling album is surprisingly cohesive, it's not quite as consistent as It's Fun To Steal or some of the better TMBG albums (the self-titled 1986 debut, Lincoln, Factory Showroom). Also, Linnell's humor may be more willfully absurd and much less self-conscious than Flansburgh's, but I don't necessarily see Flansy's more traditional tendencies, his more straightforward lyrics, his versatile if not-so-distinctive voice, or his capacity for sweet pop songs as bad things; in fact, I think he complements Linnell's unconventional leanings quite nicely. Having heard both of Flansy's Mono Puff albums and now Linnell's solo work, it has become clear to me that both Johns are exemplars of pop songwriting at its most literate and daft, and that they truly bring the best out of each other.
(P.S.: Note to Mr. Linnell -- how 'bout a nice Nebraska song, or maybe even a cover of Springsteen's "Nebraska," for the next volume of State Songs?)"

Interesting, madly intelligent, and crazy as an outhouse rat

J. T. Nite | Mesa, AZ USA | 12/28/1999

(4 out of 5 stars)

"John Linnel, half of the world's greatest band, They Might Be Giants, is a certified bugaboo, if State Songs is any indication. In his odd imagination, Iowa is a witch, Montana is a leg, we must eat Michigan's brains, and Oregon is bad and must be stopped. Many of the lyrics have dark undercurrents of alienation, illness, and hinted drug abuse (Idaho?). That said, all this lunacy is wrapped in a pretty compelling package. Instruments ranging from a car alarm and dustbuster to a "band organ" (that big thing that makes music for carousels) set off heavenly slices of pop, rock, and less standard stuff: "Michigan" sounds like a 1920's Tin Pan Alley song, "Iowa" like Cole Porter on acid, "Arkansas" a traditional sea chanty. Not to mention the most catchy song ever written, the pop masterpiece "South Carolina." The only reason I didn't give it five stars is that there's probably one instrumental too many, and "Nevada" is 8 minutes of "found music" that doesn't bear repeated listens. But this one is a worthy addition to any collection."