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HomeRock MusicCory Hanson's I Love Individuals reviewed: subversive American songcraft from the Wand...

Cory Hanson’s I Love Individuals reviewed: subversive American songcraft from the Wand mainman


The advantage of having two automobiles is which you can drive one via the grime whereas maintaining the opposite pristine. Cory Hanson first got here to our consideration a decade or so in the past because the frontman of Los Angeles group Wand, whose melodies have been all the time just a little sweeter and extra hovering than the remainder of the scuzzy West Coast psych-rock scene they got here up in. Hanson has now discovered a strategy to observe his muse in two opposing instructions, by interspersing Wand albums – more and more dense, ominous and unpredictable, as on final 12 months’s Vertigo – with solo information of spectacular poise and restraint.

I Love Individuals swells with strings, horns and choirs however in a approach that’s meticulously managed and by no means gratuitous, each ounce of indulgent flab forensically eliminated within the method of one of many nice Nashville arrangers. However anybody who’s adopted Hanson’s profession up to now will know that he’s not within the enterprise of offering earnest, easy-listening solace. And so it proves: his pristine car is a Malicious program, taking you on a journey into the darkish coronary heart of the American dream.

One of many abiding tropes of rock or nation music is the promise (to males, anyway) of a obscure, alluring freedom – the open street and the desert wind. However the misanthropic narrator of beautiful opener “Hen On A Swing” lays out in deft couplets precisely what a lifetime of operating away actually means: “I can rely all my mates/Like I rely all my money owed/On the center finger of my proper hand/The place all my guarantees are stored”. This lone ranger is a “bitter soul” with “disappointment in my cranium” – however as he notes, ruefully, “that’s the price of being free”.

As you most likely additionally guessed, this album’s title monitor shouldn’t be precisely an easy ode to humanity. Seems Cory Hanson loves individuals in a lot the identical approach that Randy Newman loves LA: sardonically and selectively. “I like individuals, I feel they’re artworks,” he sings, his harmless voice bursting with mischief. “I like individuals, I do know they’re animals at coronary heart.” The music is joyously anthemic sufficient that you might think about it being pumped out by gormless daytime radio DJs, with out realising that their very own faux bonhomie is likely one of the targets of Hanson’s scorn.

And what to make of “Santa Claus Is Coming Again To City”, by which Hanson ladles on the schmaltz, solely to narrate some terrifying perversion of the nativity story by which “the lamb lies within the manger and there’s a tombstone in his mattress”? Later, “Previous Policeman” steals the melody of the normal lullaby “Hush, Little Child” to color a miserable portrait of a washed-up cop, “looking out PornHub on his telephone”. It will get extra unsettling every time you hear it.

But the ravishing “Lou Reed” feels totally honest, a touching tribute to the previous curmudgeon’s latter-day non secular awakening, and the way “the darkness got here to life” amid the biting honesty of his New York tales: beacons of hope, regardless of their obvious hopelessness. A …Wild Facet-style saxophone enters the music on the actual level Hanson sings the phrase “saxophones”, earlier than doubling the wordless refrain – a contact that flirts knowingly with cheese, however is so completely executed that it turns into fully transcendent.

The album ends with a savage twist on that acquainted nation trope, the narrator “three sheets to the wind” in a “one-star city”, regretting his life selections. Besides he hasn’t simply misplaced his lady, he’s misplaced his thoughts, his unconscious stalked by emboldened racists, high-ranking perverts and the horror of waking up in a chilly sweat with Bare And Afraid on the TV (we’ve all been there). “Their quilted flesh is on the scene/Sewn collectively by my desires/As I gentle a fireplace within the jungle of my resort room,” Hanson sings, as guitars twang cheerily and the pedal metal shimmers. “Get within the tomb.” It’s a reasonably damning last verdict: that egocentric pursuit of that fabled open street has pushed generations of males insane and probably even into an early grave. However the music is so beautiful, and the lyrics so good, you’re reassured that every one hope shouldn’t be misplaced.

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