Geez, you ask Frank Black to pen a B-side to a single and he gives you a whole 7 track mini LP. Who does this guy think he is? He seems to have effortlessly spat out a really hip, really funky collection of tracks that, while only loosely adhering to the notion of a coherent album, forge an instant connection and then hang around to develop a lasting friendship. It’s hard to stay mad at you, Black Francis.
Kicking things off with The Seus, Black Francis sounds somehow both sparse and busy. The production and sound is, in true Frank Black form, quite minimal, but the layering of his vocals, coupled with an almost stream of consciousness tumbling of vernacular brings an air of urgent, at times neurotic, verbosity. One gets the sense that he’s having fun here – rhyming nonsensically, harmonising with himself and oozing machismo. His vocal delivery is cleaner and far more polished than his work with The Pixies ever was, but his honest experimentation and direct delivery counter this usually alienatating progression.
Part of the beauty of this mini album is how brief it is. Black and Co throw all they have into deliciously short songs – they offer the concept, explore it briefly, then move on before getting tired of it, which works exactly as it should because there’s no way you’ll be satisfied, even after the third straight listen.
The best songs on Svn Fngrs are delivered as a one-two combination. I Sent Away is edgy, and with a swagger that reminds one of Nick Cave, sounds like New York punk for 2008. And I mean punk in the “Fuck you I’ll do what I want” sense, not the “Fuck you now buy my latest single on iTunes” sense. Seven Fingers follows this jab with a swift hook to the belly, as Black’s perennial outsider, “born with seven fingers and seven toes”, gets his blues on. He sounds either like The Pixies covering The Zutons or the other way round, either of which is really cool.
Admittedly, a lot of Svn Fngrs is very derivative, but this ultimately works in its favour. So many of the songs are immediately familiar yet delightfully fresh. They ring a bell but it rings sharp. Black reminds you, ever so gently, of a song that you love but can’t quite remember and then insists that his is better; that you should keep listening; that he offers a new spin on a regularly used chord progression and a clearer insight on melancholy. You can imagine him, so clearly, in a small studio, wearing a tight black t shirt and blue wash denim jeans, nonchalantly musing on that which he does not like: it’s what Pearl Jam would sound like if they were still any good. As he says in When They Come To Murder Me, “all you boys got nothing on me”.
Svn Fngrs is available from March the 3rd.
