Cass McCombs - Humor Risk

Sat 31st Dec, 2011 in Music Reviews

Earlier this year, the mysterious American troubadour, Cass McCombs was at his “wit’s end”. Well, not really. He just released a maudlin album with the same name. Seven months on and this prolific writer is back with yet another record, his sixth one overall.

Humor Risk was said to be an attempt at laughter instead of confusion, chaos instead of morality or as fellow Northern Californian, Jack London put it: “I would rather be ashes than dust”. One thing’s for certain, this LP is a much warmer and a more accessible collection of songs than its predecessor. While McCombs’ trademark smirk and dark humour can be heard in these eight songs, comparing the two lots of music is like measuring the differences between sunlight and darkness.

Perhaps McCombs sums things up best himself in track, The Same Thing. He sings: “We’re cut from different sides of the same cloth/Our love in sunlight, our pain at evening
Have nothing in common, yet they’re both the same thing”.

Again, this record was produced by Ariel Rechtshaid – the man also behind the desk for both Wit’s End and the 2009 behemoth, Catacombs. The two albums produced in 2011 were reportedly made simultaneously “on different sides of the same room”. But you get the sense that the former offering had lots of time devoted to navel-gazing and all-round pondering while the current one was bashed out pretty quickly. This can be heard in the buoyant and snappy drums, rollicking tempos and a nature that is upbeat and breezy, particularly the retro throwbacks to excellent sixties pop and seventies rock.

Love Thine Enemy sets the happier tone with some rumbling, dirty guitar and a ramshackle romp that feels like a song by The Velvet Underground, even though the middle section is less White Light/White Heat and more white noise. While repetitive in nature, it is darned catchy as it teaches us that no matter what your efforts or intentions, you’re not going to like or be liked by everyone in this world.

The pace is then slowed to the point where McCombs’ soft vocals become a delightful croon in The Living Word and the religious subtext in the lyrics call to mind the late George Harrison. Thankfully, McCombs isn’t preachy even though he name checks many spiritual greats because he knows that this is rock and roll and not a religion class.

The Same Thing is a fine, middle-of-the-road ditty. You can hear elements of The Triffids punctuating the sound. But that’s not all because you can also hear The Doors (and in particular what could be Ray Manzarek’s key work) on the track’s many layers. Then there’s a switch in mood during To Every Man His Chimera where McCombs had thought someone died (on their wedding night no less) and this makes for a rather sinister-sounding ballad.

The almost hypnotic but rather dreamy Mariah sees McCombs repeating the track’s name over and over before the LP’s finish line. Mystery Mail fairs better on the interest stakes thanks to it being like a Johnny Cash number where we follow two hapless drug dealers on their journey to prison. It also boasts some guitars that could have been lifted form a Steppenwolf songbook.

Humor Risk may see the elusive Cass McCombs again retaining his aura of mystique because there is no divine revelation or tell-all to be found here. Instead, we get a well-thought out collection of energetic and poetic tunes that are consistent in quality, even though they’re not particularly cohesive. The world-weary McCombs remains idiosyncratic and creative with lo-fi, cerebral numbers that should easily charm the listener; whether they’re delicate and languid melodies or punchy, sixties-tinged rockers. You’ll definitely dance and cry but as McCombs reminds us: “Pain and love are the same thing”.