As I taste-test artist after artist, it not infrequently happens that I try someone new, and can appreciate why that artist might appeal to others, but also quickly understand that they are not for me. For someone else, yes, sure, absolutely… but not for me. (Shoulder shrug emoji)

This came to mind yet again as I gave my best shot at enjoying an affectionately-remembered regional favorite—Minneapolis’s mighty Trip Shakespeare—half of whose classic lineup (Dan Wilson and John Munson) would subsequently became two-thirds of personal-favorite ’90s rockers Semisonic. The point is, substantial evidence supports the proposition that I should dig Trip Shakespeare… and judging by this, one of their most revered albums, I don’t.

Trip Shakespeare was founded by Harvard students Matt Wilson (singer-songwriter-guitarist and younger brother to Dan) and Elaine Harris (drums and percussion—which she played standing up, sometimes with sticks and sometimes with her hands), soon joined by John Munson on bass and vocals. After the founding trio built a local, then regional following with their energetic live shows and 1988 Gark Records debut Applehead Man, they added guitarist and budding singer-songwriter Dan to the fold and issued this well-loved album, since reissued on first Twin/Tone and then Omnivore. The fans’ reception to the album was enough to convince A&M to sign the quartet; they would go on to make two more albums (1990’s Across The Universe and 1991’s Lulu) before butting heads with their label, losing their deal and breaking up. It’s a not-unusual trajectory—perhaps especially for a band as willfully iconoclastic as this one—that left Trip Shakespeare forever preserved in amber as misunderstood cult heroes.

I should add that I did not enter into this venture unprepared; I knew the band was considered lovably eccentric and something of an acquired taste. The thing is, I quickly came to understand that the very things that, for their fans, make them cool and quirky and different and fun, for me, make them odd and frustrating. At the core of these issues lay the biggest obstacle for me in getting along with any musical artist: I couldn’t establish any sort of emotional connection with their music.

The issue was evident from the first lines of opener “Diane,” sung by Matt in mannered tones that pair the over-the-top theatricality of a Broadway finale with dark, strange lyrics, plus the occasional lunatic wail. On “The Lake,” Harris’ drums have the resonant thunk of giant toms, among other oddities. The song is said to be narrated from the point of view of a fish, a typically arty affectation, but what was interesting for this listener was realizing how difficult it is to differentiate between Matt and Dan’s intertwining and counterpointing voices. (Unfortunately, Dan mostly emulates Matt’s mannered vocal delivery, which was already chafing on me five minutes into the album.)

The initially punchy “Swing” develops into a vocal throw around that has everyone singing with all the considered restraint of extras in a Monty Python movie; it makes perfect sense that this band’s name has the word “trip” in it, because their music definitely is one. There’s a brief feint toward the mainstream as “Two Wheeler, Four Wheeler” opens, a driving, riffy number that’s undermined by stilted vocals. Next up. the Wilson brothers co-write “Spirit” is honestly bizarre, giving off the vibe of a college musical number gone off the rails, a blizzard of darkly mysterious call-and-answer vocals, the theatricality of which approaches opera at times.

Dan takes the lead vocal on “Thief,” giving it a somewhat more grounded feel without diverging too far from the overall TS vibe. The latter comes to the fore on one of the group’s signature tunes, the spectacularly goofy mini rock opera “Toolmaster Of Brainerd.” The whimsical guitar hero fantasy at its heart feels like an attempt to rewrite one of Led Zeppelin’s Tolkien songs while riding a nitrous oxide buzz. It’s a song that very much wants to achieve a kind of epic nerd-cool, and for some it clearly does… just not me.

The most different cut here is the group-written “Vines,” featuring an airy, jazzy opening that gradually resolves into a song built around Munson’s limber bass line under a repeating guitar figure. Munson’s baritone is notably deeper than the Wilson brothers’ tenors, but when taking the lead, he, too adopts Matt’s exaggerated singing style. Still, it’s an atmospheric and at times rather hypnotic track.

Closer “Reception”—the highlight for me—spotlights co-writer and lead vocalist Dan over a steady, deliberate, almost funk rhythm section. The song has real structure and flow and offers abundant hints of where Dan was headed as a songwriter; the vocals are overcooked in that distinctive TS style, but it’s fun when he pulls out his patented Prince falsetto to trade notes with his own guitar solo.

The cheekily titled Are You Shakespearienced? was successful enough to earn the band a major-label deal, so who am I to judge? Just a Semisonic fan with a dearth of imagination, I guess. If you like your indie-rock with strong threads of Broadway theatricality, dark satirical fantasy, and Captain Beefheart-level weirdness, you should definitely check these guys out. (If you need me, I’ll be over here giving Little Bit Of Sun another spin…)

Rating: C-

User Rating: Not Yet Rated

Comments