The few members of the Splendid staff who've seen our "offices" -- which are also home to a number of largish, tank-dwelling amphibians -- might suggest that I grabbed My Life As A Frog purely because the word "frog" appears in the title. And I'll admit, there's a grain of truth there. Rather more importantly, I'm glad that My Life As A Frog attracted my attention, as it's a lovely little gem of an album.
Flashing Red Airplane is the solo effort of one Jen Wilke, with intermittent assistance from friends and labelmates. Wilke's preferred mode of expression is introspective, mid-tempo pop songs; it's a style that's been amply explored by other artists, so you're forgiven for thinking "Oh, no, not again..." Fortunately, Wilke knows what she's doing; while its presentation hints at amateurishness (more due to font selection and page layout than its artwork), My Life As A Frog is in fact a thoroughly polished album. The vocals, while mostly hushed and confessional, are also pleasingly matter-of-fact; Wilke probably won't win a grammy for her singing, but she's usually on key, avoiding the cutesy excesses of twee pop and the ostentatious vocal flourishes of Top 40 divas. She's not above the occasional indie rock moment; on "It's a Long Way Down When You Know Your Way", for instance, she occasionally slips free of her musical accompaniment to utter matter-of-fact payoff lines like "It's a useless catalyst." When the occasion calls for a little more oomph behind the pipes, as with the cheery "My Boyish Face", she's up to the challenge, though constantly on the brink of losing the tune. If you own the last two Spinanes records, you'll find yourself in familiar territory -- Wilke is a bit more girlish than Rebecca Gates, but seems to be coming from the same place.
Wilke scores more points for getting a lot of mileage out of her relatively minimal instrumentation. Label cohort Kent Randell provides the bulk of her accompaniment, and it's clear that he's attuned to Wilke's style. Most of the music sounds like it was recorded on a four- or eight-track recorder, albeit by someone who really knows how to use low-end recording equipment; the sound is warm and full, seldom brittle or trebly, and occasionally jazzed up with unexpected instruments. Keyboard melodies add a bit of gloss without overpowering the tunes (though the piano on "Treading Water" sounds a bit dubious), while shortwave radio noise bookends the disc, giving it a measure of Elephant Six artsiness. The irresistable title track even includes an e-bow.
I'm writing this review on one of the first truly hot days of summer -- uncomfortable and sweaty in a room full of ineffective fans. Most frogs, meanwhile, are floating lazily in the cool shade of secluded ponds. That's what My Life As A Frog makes me want to do -- to stretch out and float in cool comfort, with sensory input trimmed to a minimum. Though I'm trapped in a humid office, Flashing Red Airplane has taken a bit of the edge off. Trust me, it'll do the same for you.
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