We’re only now getting our first Spencer Krug album of the year? Yes, the man of tidal regularity is formally launching the debut of his Moonface moniker, a solo outfit that initially released a 20-minute track remarkably/accurately called “Marimbas and Shit-Drums.” If Wolf Parade affords Krug the opportunity to write fractured pop songs and Sunset Rubdown allows Krug to purge his subconscious demons with surreal sloganeering, then Moonface gives Krug the space to work out his experimental bent with odd instrumentation and even more surrealistic lyrics. Whereas “Marimbas and Shit-Drums” was composed almost entirely on, you guessed it, a marimba, lead teaser “Fast Peter,” from the forthcoming Organ Music Not Vibraphone Like I’d Hoped, features, you guessed it, a lot of organ music. Krug layers a pair of organs, one spinning in a frantic loop while the other calmly lays a soothing foundation. A cheap drum machine engines the whole thing along at a steady clip. By the time the organs disintegrate into wildly squawking tones, Krug has found his requisite romantic mantra: “She’s the one/The one that he thinks of when he thinks of love.” The song’s sentiment is ostensibly much sweeter than anything Krug has put forward before, and it’s no surprise that nothing in his extensive back catalog sounds as warm and inviting as the beguiling “Fast Peter.”
Organ Music Not Vibraphone Like I’d Hoped is out on Jagjaguwar in August. Read the juicy part of Krug’s excellent press release after the jump.
Krug on the sound/length/artistic impulse behind the new record:
In the end we have something between pop and lush drones. Though it’s only 5 tracks long, Organ Music runs around 37 minutes and is dense, but in a satisfying way, I hope, like eating a small, heavy piece of cheesecake. It’s music played with an organ, organ beats, organ beeps and bloops, and some digital drums. Music based on layers and loops, the hypnotizing sound of a leslie speaker, and the onslaught of melody. Originally there were something like 9 or 10 almost fully formed songs, but late in the recording process I decided to cut it down to five, crystalizing the good stuff, killing my troublesome darlings, and avoiding the weighty world of a 1.5 hour double LP. You’re welcome. Cutting songs is like shucking the husk off a coconut. Now we can just drink the milk. Now, in my mind at least, there is no filler on this album. Hopefully you will feel the same way. Please, let me serve you cheesecake and coconut milk. Please, enjoy.