Album Reviews

[October 15th, 2008] Boy Eats Drum Machine

No, that’s not a typo in the title. Boy Eats Drum Machine is the project of Jon Ragel, and Booomboxxx, his third album of chopped and screwed avant-pop songs, merits every extra x and o. Like fellow local sound deconstructionists Menomena, Ragel doesn’t dismantle the structure of a conventional pop song as much as he alters it. One part Beck and one part Jacques Derrida, Booomboxxx’s best songs—“The Crack in the Sea,” “La La La La LA,” and the album’s title track—crack and fizzle, mixing slices of chunky guitar, blurts of tenor saxophone, turntable scratches and plenty of doctored breakbeats.

An archivist through and through, all the drum breaks and syncopated patterns come from Ragel’s deft mining and sampling of the local Bridgetown Breaks compilations (which feature ace local drummers like Menomena’s Danny Seim and Talkdemonic’s Kevin O’Connor). BEDM’s tunes aren’t pure artifacts, though; he’s more DJ Shadow than Girl Talk, taking the drum parts and arranging them with his own live instrumentation and icy, deadpan voice. In fact, Booomboxxx only fizzles when Ragel ditches singing and focuses squarely on the instrumental pieces, which flutter but lack the melodies and strength of his poppier song-based moments. Booomboxxx is so stuffed with sound and form that it’s hard not to find something to like—all the more impressive considering it’s the work of just one dude and a bunch of dusty records. Who needs a drum machine?

Super XX Man

Scott Garred’s gentle speak-sing is one of the most recognizable voices in Portland’s music scene. And the singer-songwriter has produced enough genius material throughout his 12 albums as Super XX Man that one assumes he is in full command of even his goofiest moments. So I struggle to find the genius in this album’s inclusion of wacky Sesame Street lyrics—“rubber duckie, you’re the one/ You make bathtime so much fun”—in a song about self-discovery (“What Lies Beneath”). And as always, I’m rewarded for my faith. Garred is a music therapist by trade, and while one must listen to sections of There’ll Be Diamonds with a patient’s ears to appreciate their therapeutic qualities (strewn over stark, crisp acoustic guitar and his wife Michelle’s haunting piano), there’s a big payoff for that patience.

Here, the payoff comes on the uncharacteristically bouncy “House/Home,” where a Tennessee Three bassline finds Garred’s sweet, questioning sentimentalism, and on “Downtown Chapel,” where the words morph into a small prayer for comfort. By the time Garred gets to his Mountain Goats-esque closer, “Cautious Like a Panther,” it’s time to re-examine those songs that felt a little goofy the first time around.