For those who haven’t cottoned on to this intriguing (on paper, anyway) project, Monsters of Folk is indie-rock’s newest supergroup. They are: Conor Oberst and Mike Mogis of Bright Eyes, along with alt-country miserablist M.Ward and My Morning Jacket’s Jim James. The eponymous album is out on 22 September on the Shangri La label in the US and Rough Trade in the UK. They make the trip over to Europe later in the year, and play London’s Troxy on 17 November.
The first track emerged in July, ‘Say Please’, a pleasant-ish song without being devastating. Unlike many other supergroups (The Raconteurs being a good example), it is difficult with this quartet to n0tice who does what, according to the stylistic habits of their own careers. For example, it is moronically easy to guess which Raconteurs songs are by Brendan Benson and which by Jack White. Here, based on ‘Say Please’ anyway, the most one can say is that while there are certain melodic cadences and a general mood that evokes Oberst’s recent work, particularly 2007’s Cassadaga, his distinct passion and insight is somewhat blunted by the others. Indeed on other tracks, like ‘Dear God’, it is James’s more soulful proclivities that are interfered with by the confines of being in such a democratic ensemble. Tellingly, it is M.Ward, the only permanent solo artist in the band, whose work is least stunted by the collaboration. His ‘The Sandman, The Brakeman’ is arguably the album’s best track.
So you may ask how the whole thing is held together if everyone’s talents are dumbed down so. The answer comes from the production of Mogis. Much has been made of the fact this album owes a great deal to the original folk supergroup, The Travelling Wilburys and true, there is that Wilburys-esque notion of pure pop competing with more traditional-based ‘classic’ songwriting. But where Mogis succeeds is pulling together three such disparate talents (the politico-apocalypse of Oberst, the smooth country-funk of James and the slightly boring, uneventful singer-songwriterly fare of Ward) and recording them as something approaching a coherent whole.
On the other hand, the lack of surprises or electricity on this record makes one wonder whether he would have been better served leaving them to do their own thing without trying to smooth over the potentially jarring musical differences between them. Not enough fireworks, even if this is a very listenable record by three men, all great students of the history of rock, who know exactly how to press the buttons of those after a throwback sound.
The only other thing is the name. Awful. There must have been a moment when they were sitting round a table with a bottle of whiskey, or perhaps on a porch sharing a joint, when someone came up with this ‘Monsters Of Folk’. It beggars belief that no one either then or since thought to say: “guys, that’s a terrible name, let’s try again”. It’s not that they aren’t folk (the name being an obvious reference to the fact they are not), but clearly this was a move to pre-empt critics and reviewers with an ironic soundbite-friendly description, a mocking piece of self-knowledge aimed at those who will emphasise the fame of the band’s members rather than the actual music. That is very clever, even admirable, but very smug. If only they weren’t so darn literate.
