The concept album is a somewhat misunderstood beast. Polarising in their vision, ambition and sheer artistic gall, they have often been lambasted as overblown, self-indulgent and frankly, sometimes quite ridiculous. Personally, we’ve always had a lot of time for them, no doubt due in no small part to classic records like Tommy, Everybody Down, good kid, m.A.A.d city, American Idiot, and A Grand Don’t Come For Free.
It’ll therefore come as no surprise that we’re very pleased to meet New York-based multi-instrumentalist Jaewon’s new album, Alone At The Movies. Opening with a voicemail from a frustrated friend who is finding his buddy consistently difficult to reach, it’s instantly equal parts infuriated and supportive – a delicate blend of exasperation, dedication, and tough love. Indeed, the artist tells us that “the whole album is about disconnect via being “Alone At The Movies” and nobody being able to get in touch with me”. As the track progresses, the sense of isolation, detachment, and reclusiveness grows. Cinematic – but also somehow subtle – instrumentation blends with further voicemails to make a poignant collage of sentiment and what feels distinctly like concern. “What could you possibly be doing?” asks one friend as the music oscillates between the sounds of The Flaming Lips, Mercury Rev, and Cassadaga-era Bright Eyes.
Mise En Scéne kicks in and feels like classic Brendan Benson modern power pop, but with a definite Tom Petty-esque retro lean. We’re informed that the lyrics are “100% lines from The Graduate reordered to tell a different story” – which is exactly the kind of alchemic songwriting mischief that we can get behind. Wonderfully produced, excellently performed, and very well crafted – this is absolutely perfect pop rock.
Table Space has The Strokes pacing as it begins, complemented by Jaewon’s laconic vocal delivery. Part slacker rock, part indie sleaze, the track trudges along like a belligerent teenager – full of defiance and resistance. It’s not often we encounter a tune that feels both anthemic and apathetic – but here we are. As Jaewon screams “I don’t care” and his vocal cords shred with almost Ryan Jarman-esque reckless abandon, we feel that the indifference shifts to investment, despite claims to the contrary.
Carbon Dating is, we’re told “a reflection of a love story in my life through the lens of the movie past lives”. A glam rock stomp blends with 1960s pop sensibilities, classic waltz vibes, and eventually concludes with a Brian May-style guitar solo. Catchy and classy, this one will bury itself in your brain. It’s followed by Product Placement, which begins with another voicemail. “How long will I let this slide, Duncan? Answer your Goddamn phone,” states another frustrated mate as Jaewon attempts to break down what exactly is going on with him. The disconnect that we met on the first track returns on this one, but feels a bit less hopeless – like there might be a sliver of light peeking through the darkness of the author’s self-imposed segregation after all. There’s definitely a sense of humour here (thanks to lines like “must’ve passed out early late last night / slept through all your calls last week”) which garnishes the subject matter with an approachable layer of levity, without sacrificing the significance of what it is that’s actually being addressed.
This is followed by a short, smooth jazz intermission, which is appropriately named Intermission. Smokey, sultry, and soft, it’s a bit of a palette cleanser for what is to come next.
The most beautiful piece on the album by some distance, Awards Season was released as a single before the album, at the end of last month. Folky and poppy at the same time, it feels like it comes from a place of both joy (“kick back your feet, don’t leave me be”) and pain (“that caskets tailor-made to fit all my needs / my heart still beats for you as I decay”) and, evidently, the songwriting ambition is in keeping with the general scope of the album as a whole. Reminiscent stylistically of Blackbird as it starts and Hey Jude as it concludes, it’s in very good company indeed. Conversely, Spoilers is crunchy pop-rock personified. Petty-esque again with a dash of Americana thrown in, it’s a finely crafted slice of timeless songwriting. As much indebted to the 1970s as it is to the 2010s, it’s full of attitude, personality, and unmistakable character.
Credit has a soulful, Dap-Kings vibe about it as it begins. Cut from a similar cloth to the Intermission, it comes across as a bit of a change of pace but feels at home regardless. Suitably theatrical and, at times, full-on psychedelic, it’s a sprawling, adventurous work that seems to touch on influences as wide-ranging as John Barry, Robbie Williams, Billie Holiday, Adam Green, Serge Gainsbourg, Super Furry Animals, Frank Sinatra, and Mark Ronson.
The last track – Calling All Cars – is the longest on the album and feels like a final track. “Don’t go closing the curtain, I’m not ready to leave” Jaewon yearns over music that feels as grandiose as the track that opened the set. And with that, it’s a wrap.
As concept albums go, this one is probably pretty palatable because the thematic references are used sparingly and, crucially, largely metaphorically. The cinematic theme is a thread that runs throughout the course of the tracks, rather than, say, the telling of a tale from beginning to end or building a make-believe world across the course of the 10 songs. This by no means diminishes the accomplishment. If anything, in circumnavigating the very component of concept albums that, I think, people generally find the most unappealing, it actually elevates the resulting work. This album should very much be considered a job well done and, if there were Oscars for albums, we reckon this one would definitely be in the running.
Written by Kinda Grizzly
