The scourge of 80s and 90s arthouse cinema and general cultural ne'er-do-well David Lynch has been busy lately, doing virtually everything he can to put off directing a follow-up to his most recent dose of cinematic nightmare fuel, Inland Empire. He's written self help books and thrown together a photography collection for Sparklehorse and Dangermouse's ill fated Dark Night of the Soul and, oh, yeah, put out his own line of coffee beans. So what does that leave? Well, while we're all waiting for the inevitable children's book collaboration with Lars van Trier (ANYTHING but another movie, I suppose), there's Lynch's latest project to tide us over, his surprisingly solid solo debut, Crazy Clown Time.
Now, don't everyone all run away at once. Sure, Lynch was the man who ruined an entire generation of cinemophiles with his frequently terrifying and constantly befuddling "Eraserhead," and yes, he's the monster behind the Red Room scene in "Twin Peaks" (you know the one), but that effervescent weirdness so regularly tied to the name is only running at half power here. There's strangeness aplenty, don't get me wrong. Distorted vocals and construction-work-percussion and sinister synths are all on full display-this isn't Coldplay we're talking about. But, surprisingly, the bug-out surrealism never bursts into full-on Scott Walker territory (no donkeys, thank god); in fact, most of the music could pass as some alternate-universe pop music. At worst, the songs are head scratchers ("I Know" is pretty ghastly and both of the seven minute tracks spend most of their lengths marching in place and being absolutely amazed at their own non-sequitorness), and at best they're the astoundingly catchy "Good Day Today" or the groovy and country tinged "Stone's Gone Up".
The former in particular deserves some special attention. Over piledriver drumbeats a mystery vocalist (possibly Lynch himself) wails "Send me an angel- save me", over and over and over again, till the words lose all meaning. Then he snaps and starts up with "I wanna have a good day today"-there's a darkness there, a bleakness, hidden under neon synths and faux optimism. This is the track that'll make or break the album for most people. If you're still unconvinced by the time it winds down, get out immediately-it's all downhill from there.
For all its starry eyed success, though, the album does falter in ways most debuts do. Lynch, always in love with his own ideas, has a horrible tendency to push things too far (did Inland Empire and Mulholland Drive really need to be almost 3 hours long?), and Crazy Clown Time is no exception. Everything's fresh and wonderful for the first nine or so tracks, but post that it begins to grow a bit stale. By the time you hit the title track it's a lit hard not to squirm in your seat and wonder where it's all going. It's a freshman mistake, and one that's more or less forgivable.
If we have to make comparisons here (and, as always, I feel like we must), the most apt would probably be something between Merzbow and the Flaming Lips. Half of Lynch's grizzled vocals sound like early, high-as-a-kite, Clouds Taste Metallic era Wyane Coyne deliveries. There's a lightness there, almost a childishness and a knack for hooks. But then there's the weirdness and the industrial pummel, snaking in between blues riffs and glowing keys-this isn't a kind album, though it isn't entirely the devious mess its pedigree might suggest. Lynch himself puts it best on the title track: "This is crazy clown time / And it's real fun" he sings, on top of backwards guitar hisses and crashing drum hits.
Grade: B
