a coherent collection of random statements regarding God, words and tunes

Lullabies from the Edge

     Ladies and gentlemen: West Milford, New Jersey's greatest alternative Christian artist is back. 

     OK, so that might not be saying much, especially since the only other competition he potentially could have had left for Colorado last summer. But trust me, if you like your tuneage acoustically and electronically loopy, almost pathologically minimal, and yet somehow strangely peaceful -- and/or get excited by the idea of locking Dave Matthews in a room with a bunch of Fisher-Price toys, Casios, and samplers, and ordering him at gunpoint to stop being a "serious artist" -- Jai Agnish can be your man too.

     It's been six years since Jai (pronounced Jay) put out his mega-indie first album, Automata, and aside from some selections on his self-circulated Blue Bunny Sampler and the correctly titled Our Split EP with Gospel Zombie, pickins has been slim. (And if you visit his myspace site, you'll probably stumble into the simple, plaintive, yet sticks-in-your-head single from Automata, "When You Dream," which will give you a good idea of where he's coming from.)

     Anyway, something happened: One of those close artist-friends who contributed several songs to said sampler put out a little CD called Come on, Feel the ILLINOISe. You know, the one I and a whole lot of other people called the best album of 2005.

 That said -- and if you were reading closely above, you already realize -- Mechanical Sunshine won't remind you much of the aforementioned Sufjan Stevens magnum opus. But if you don't need The Big Statement OR The Big Music, it's a very quirky, winsome, and satisfying little CD, and one which picks up where Automata left off and builds on it nicely as it goes along. His music simultaneously makes you think, "Heck, I could do that," and makes you wonder why you hadn't. It won't change yr life, but it'll pass the better part of an hour quite engagingly.

     "Mr. Mission," the first tune, would've fit squarely on Automata. Bubbly, squeaky, sampled and simple. "Changes" stays in the same mellow, do-it-yourself groove and throws in some marimbas for good measure.

     The happy factor gets upped on the buoyant "Good Times, Good Night," where Jai's joined vocally by Julie Bryant (who contributes nicely in several places on this album), before returning to the acoustic/sampler groove for "Yellow Balloon," then meeting halfway in "Red Eyes in June." I'm not sure how closely the chronology of the songs corresponds to the song sequence, but things start shifting around this point. Nice coda here too.

     "The Argument" is another plaintive, more quiet duet with Julie Bryant. I'm not sure entirely what it means (and Jai's lyrics in general are more impressionistic than impressive - that's not to say they're bad, but they do tend to blend in with the music more than rise above them), but it's pretty nonetheless.

     "Can You Fly" is the sparsest song here (which, you've no doubt gathered, is saying something), but also one of the most effective, featuring some nice melodica from Robert Wenzel (the county judge/former mayor's son? Now see, THIS is the problem with reviewing music from yr former hometown....). Again, lyrical details are sketchy, but the somber, lost melody carries this one along really nicely. "Mind Pride" sways along nicely and childlike, as did most of the best songs from Automata -- think Greg Lake's old ELP ballads, but without the honkin' weight of pretention they carried.

     The more straight acoustic "Known You" nicely layers the guitars while bemoaning, "I wish I had known you much better than that.... Everything is known to you / Even before I speak a word / Even before I make my move.... / In your book you write them down / The things you know before I know them...." God? A girl? Who knows? Just kick back and enjoy it. "Spaceship" begins equally quiet and acoustically, but adds on the samples, Bryant's backups, and Wenzel's keys to good effect.

     I have to admit I'm not a big fan of Jai's work with also-local-artist/collaborator J.S. Rockit, but we get two samples of it here anyway, in the mercifully brief hip-hop phone message "You Made Me Intro" and the not-so-short "All I Ever Dreamed Of." Suffice to say, Jai's atmospheres and chorus (short version on the message: hang onto yr dreams) help me survive J.S.'s wordy yet dumb white-boy rap. Sandwiched in between is the pretty "You Made Me," where the phone-call sampling fades into the background while guitar and xylophone (?) work nicely off one another.

     The real gem here is the next song, "Carnival." As with most of the songs here, it starts off very minimal, but over the course of five-plus minutes builds into something almost... well, almost majestic. Again, who's the heck's he singing to? Doesn't matter. The music gives it the sense of intrigue it needs:

Your mind, it is a carnival ride
You keep changing your mind
You don't know why
Look at all the rides
And look at all the prizes

If this is the way it's got to be
Then how about at least letting me see it all go down?
If this is the way you're going to be
Then how about at least letting me see it all go down?

     "Where We Watch From" is another pretty and peaceful puppy, and one which closes this one out. "This is where I come to find you again / This is where I go to surprise everyone..." 

     Heck, go out and buy this just go the boy can afford to tour outside the NY Metro area. And here's where you do it.

Posted by: burninglight at 19:56 | link | comments