One of the tough parts about writing a music blog is to switch from what I’m currently listening to (“Baker Street” by Gerry Rafferty) to what I’m going to write about (“On Oni Pond” by Man Man). But I must soldier on, because this album has some truly standout tracks.
(Incidentally, I’ve been using Google Play Unlimited lately, and I love it. I never wanted to do Pandora or Spotify subscriptions, but I’m such a Google fan that when I heard they had a subscription service I did the 30 day trial. I’ve now renewed for the last couple of months, and I love it. It comes with YouTube music key, which means you can download songs from YouTube, and it gets rid of most ads on YouTube music videos. More info about the Music Key here. For what it’s worth, Google Play’s playlists are so-so, but I think YouTube’s are stellar. Even if you don’t subscribe, check out some of the playlists on YouTube. I’ve found some stellar music that way.)
The Album: On Oni Pond
So, down to today’s music selection: “Head On (Hold On To Your Heart)” by Man Man, from their album “On Oni Pond.” This track has been in pretty heavy rotation for me since I stumbled on to it sometime mid-last year; after listening to the song about a hundred times I decided to pick up the album, and it was quite a surprise. The album is all over the place; it starts out with a a 39-second horn piece called “Oni Swan.” The piece is slow and cinematic, and ends somewhat dissonantly; then the rock starts. The second song, “Pink Wonton,” introduces you to lead singer Honus Honus (yes, you read that right) and his husky, passioned rockabilly-meets-go-go vocals over fuzzy guitars and jazz organ and every percussive object imaginable.
Head On (Hold On To Your Heart)
The real gem of the album, though, is “Head On (Hold On To Your Heart)”.
It opens with pizzicato strings, quickly joined by palm-muted guitar. Then comes Honus Honus, singing his lyrics like a diagnosis:
There’s a hole in your head;at least, that’s what everybody’s guessing.It’s why you sleep but you never feel rested.
The entire song follows in lock-step, with sober string sections, tightly controlled drum beats (heavy on the toms), and the muted bass line walking careful circles underneath it all.
It’s not often that I get excited about a drum beat, but I love the drums in this song. They’re so tight, with such a great tone that they don’t even need the cymbals. And the fill on the turnaround after each chorus just kills me; it’s not flashy or groundbreaking, but insistently competent. When you sound that good, you don’t need to be showy. (Other great drum performances: “Hound Dog” by Elvis Presley, “Beyond the Sea” by Bobby Darin, and “D’yer Mak’er” by Led Zeppelin. And pretty much anything by Gene Krupa.)
And normally it drives me crazy when bands use the bass guitar as a percussion instrument, but this song makes excellent use of the bass in filling out the rhythmic gaps between drum beats. (You can really hear it at the beginning of the organ solo, at 2:30; right before the 3rd verse.)
The song is wonderful, but the video (above) adds such depth to it. There is a paranoia bubbling through the lyrics, like in this line:
There’s a knock at your door
You don’t even recognize the stranger
It’s you from before
Trying to warn you all about the dangers.
The video is a series of clips from 1950s horror films, with the lyrics added like opening credits, in stuttering overlays, that push the inherent weirdness to near-delirious levels.
On Oni Pond as a whole
Other highlights include “King Shiv,” which sounds a bit like the soundtrack to a lost level of Super Mario Brothers. Then, after some seriously sinister break beats, a little reggae organ (heavy on the reverb) steps into the room. The opening line, “Woke up feeling like it puts the lotion in the basket; can you even recall the times, before your pheromones took your common sense hostage, and left you in the rain to dry.” I didn’t know that reggae could ever feel so claustrophobic (although Gotye’s brilliant “State of the Art” is a strong effort), but Man Man has created an eery aerie that you won’t want to escape from.
There are other bright spots on the album, to be sure; “Deep Cover” manages to take the ukulele in new directions. I know what you’re thinking: “But John, that’s so over-done!” Believe me, this ain’t no Zooey Deschanel ballad. It’s a strange little ditty built on cacophonous chords, with a “You Wouldn’t Like Me When I’m Angry” little interlude from the horn section at 1:13.
“Sparks” is my other favorite; just as snappy and controlled as the rest of the record, but built on the classic major-to-relative-minor chord structure I love so much. (Other notable example: “The Water Is Wide,” especially as performed by the Kingston Trio, or “From the Top of the World” by My Brightest Diamond, especially beginning at 1:30. That 30 seconds from 1:30 to 2:00 is some of the finest music I’ve ever heard, and it’s just those 2 chords, over and over.)
Other than that, it’s a pretty good album; without those songs, it’d probably get 3 stars. But those songs push it into the 4-stars realm. “Head On” is a definite 5 stars, though.