Adam Green
Sixes & Sevens
Rough Trade
By Mike Randall
Adam Green writes folk songs for people on Ritalin. There is no other way for me to describe the former Moldy Peach’s music. With his fifth solo release, Sixes & Sevens, he doesn’t veer too far from that path, conglomerating a plethora of styles into two-minute musical sketches. This time out, however, he’s exploring new studio techniques, upgrading his Daniel Johnston-home-style lo-fi sound through almost-slick production, added instrumentation and backing singers, and exhibiting a controlled freedom that has been non-existent on previous freewheeling records.
With Green, you never know whether he’s being sincere or if he’s going for a laugh, and that just might be his secret sauce. On Sixes & Sevens, it surprisingly might be a tad more of the former than the latter. As is typical with Green, each verse seems to communicate a new thought, but quintessential indie-folk tracks like “When a Pretty Face” and “Homelife” are unexpectedly open, honest and cohesive, especially when he reveals, “My home life is disconcerting/I’ve got to keep my money down.” “Drowning Head First,” with the rhythmic sensibility of his “new” hit, “Anyone Else But You,” and featuring a duet with his girlfriend, just might be an affirmation that he’s not yet willing to let go of his time as a Moldy Peach.
Don’t be fooled, though, this is not an overtly austere affair. The listener goes on a musical carnival ride with Green, changing gears from country folk (“Bed of Prayer”) to rollicking 50s piano pop on an acoustic guitar (“Grandma Shirley & Papa”) to tracks that recall Elvis’ Blue Hawaii days (“Tropical Island”) and Jimmy Buffett’s honky-tonk classic, “Pencil-thin Mustache” (“Rich Kids”). Green even demonstrates his 12-string prowess combining old Nashville country with the free jazz-inspired “Exp. 1,” while “Festival Song” might be the biggest, most dramatic rock song he’s ever done. Arguably the strongest track on the record, “Leaky Flask,” comes off like an old prison work song, with Green functioning as both the call and the response.
The most noticeable progression from previous records is not Green’s “Touch Me”-era Morrison-meets-Lou Reed vocal styling (with the subject matter of Ween and Stephen Malkmus), but the amount of time it seems he spent in the studio crafting these songs. Nearly half the tracks have some sort of orchestration or backing vocals, and Green even went as far as bringing in a choir from a Brooklyn church. The soulful touches are nice, as are the sampling of xylophone, tuba and other instruments that, although cheesy at times, don’t come off as overdone.
The thing about Adam Green is not that he has the ability to jump around from style-to-style – often times during the same song or even verse – it’s his charm. He has the capacity to make you smile with his sturdy voice and versatile guitar, whether or not that’s the intention. When it comes down to it, he’s using the same basic tools as everyone else. He just has the unique ability to construct something different each time – which is reason enough to pay attention.
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