Adam Green - Minor Love

Tue 16th Mar, 2010 in Music Reviews

Adam Green’s sixth solo album in eight years Minor Love follows his run of topsy-turvy and decidedly unique observations from his immediate world.

However, this time around, Green is newly divorced from his wife of only two years. Not only has this obviously affected his state of mind, but has only fuelled his creative side further. The album, created almost entirely on Green’s lonesome, is a collection of melancholy, uncertain songs that are scattered and inconsistent. At the same time, there’s just something lovable about Green as both a performer and a character – so much so that the album has enough going for it to become passable, in spite of its flaws.

What is most interesting about Minor Love – particularly for long-serving Green fans – is the arguable notion that this could well be his first-ever straightforward, humourless album. He constantly sounds tired and miserable, even when the songs themselves are musically upbeat ( Goblin, Oh Shucks ) or when the lyrics give way to his classic wry humour (“Castles and tassels/and flatulent assholes/I love you”). He delivers his moping poetry throughout the album’s tracks, exuding feelings of distance, confusion, frustration and passive aggression. Atop of that, it’s a rarity that the musical movements here work beyond subdued, Cohen-esque sways, which results in an album that’s a fairly bleak affair more often than not.

With this in mind, it’s easy to become disinterested with Minor Love. Sure, it’s only around half an hour in length, but Green’s sulking and low key numbers with similar themes can test your patience. In particular, you will more than likely switch off from the album during the stretch of tracks from the indulgent Bathing Birds to the echoing filler number Cigarettes Burn Forever. Perhaps if they were scattered amongst Green’s previous albums, they may be more enjoyable; but bundled together it just gets depressing.

There’s still quality work to be found, of course. The swinging Give Them A Token is an early highlight, with slinking acoustic guitar and warm organ adding to the quaint, catchy vocals. Its successor, the snarky Buddy Bradley, is also worth your listening time for the viciously sharp lyrics alone: “Cancel the Sunday salon/And bury the gravedigger’s son/No money could last for too long/Nobody could pay for this song”.

The arrangements – a mile away from the big-band tracks of 2008’s Sixes and Sevens – are also a nice touch, in all their simplistic nature. Minor Love definitely aims for a less-is-more feel, which is accomplished soundly enough.

The degree of enjoyment you will get from Minor Love depends entirely on how good your history is with Green’s previous outings. If you can accept the album for the acquired taste that it is, then there’ll be a far greater chance of enjoying what’s on offer. Conversely, if you’re easily irritated by the guy, best to leave this one alone. Unless, of course, you’d like to hear him suffer. Minor Love majors in that stuff.