Maestro Echoplex seems to be a guy named Johnny Fontaine. He's put out a tidy little seven-song EP that is graced with lots of pictures of skeletons, lyrics written out in a cramped hand and songs with titles like "My eyes are disconnected from my head is disconnected from my body" and "'Die Knowing Something,' said Walker Evans. (Karen, don't be lonely)". Deliberately obscure? Perhaps. Willfully strange? Maybe. Really good nonetheless? Yep. The Maestro (as Fontaine seems to prefer to be called) traffics in the same sort of smart, acoustic, folky ballads that such well-known chaps as Will Oldham and Bill Callahan have made their living purveying. Although the Maestro possesses neither the creepy backwoods air that suffuses much of the former's work, nor quite as much of the existential dread that hovers over the latter's canon (although he has a death obsession that a professional might wish to look into), he can stand alongside these accomplished tunesmiths with no worries.
Last Night I saw God on the Dance Floor starts out with the anthemically titled "My Eyes are Disconnected From My Head is Disconnected From My Body", which shuffles along on a catchy little guitar lick and the chorus "Ooh, look how everybody's happy/ooh, look how everybody's sad". The Maestro's voice is soothing and calm, even when detailing images of separation and emptiness -- "If my belly so full, how is it I can feel so goddamned empty/I've never seen so much motion amount to so much stasis". Emptiness and death are images that recur rather frequently on Last Night...: "the friends and family of the deceased/are waiting for the party to begin" (from the title track); "I see all the empty places/filling all the empty places/I should fit right in/But my emptiness is deep within" (from "I Am Empty Like a Hole"); "Euthanize/We will not weep/We've all been dying since birth/Let us sing your praises as you put us down" (from "Cover Our Eyes, Anesthetize, Euthanize").
This theme of dread carries over to Last Night I Saw God on the Dance Floor's lone cover, which is one of the most surprising and well-executed remakes I've heard in quite a long time, (although it me laugh hysterically the first time I heard it). The song: Shellac's "A Prayer to God". You know the one -- the opening track on 1000 Hurts, a revenge fantasy in which Steve Albini asks God to smite his ex-lover and her current man; it starts out with Albini whining "To the one true God above, here is my prayer...there are two people here, and I want you to kill them". The song is consummated by the most pissed-off nerd in the world screaming "Just fuckin' kill him, kill him already, kill him, just fuckin' kill him," over and over and over. The original, regardless of how you feel about Shellac, is one of the most cathartic songs put to tape in the last ten years. Maestro Echoplex, thankfully, realizes the cardinal rule when it comes to covers: either play it better than the original, or change the context entirely. I don't think there's anyone alive who can out-pissed-off-nerd Steve Albini, so the Maestro makes a very smart choice, and plays the song as if he wrote it. This means that the thumping bass, pounding drums and nasal whine of the original are replaced by the Maestro's regulated croon, acoustic guitar strumming, and some weird wah-wahed guitar, which plays a sort of percussive role. The effect: imagine what it would have sounded like if Will Oldham had decided that "A Prayer to God" was worthy of inclusion on his recent More Reverie covers EP. Maestro Echoplex takes the seething rage of Albini's original and transforms it into something significantly more disturbing -- a well-groomed, simple folk song about wanting God to "just fucking kill" two people who have wronged the author. Maestro Echoplex turns the snarling, rabid dog that is the original into a cute-cuddly-looking beast that will bite your hand off it you get too close.
The Maestro had to know that by making such a drastic change to one of an indie icon's best songs, he would elicit a quite a response. Fortunately, the success of this cover doesn't overshadow his own skills. Even discounting the surprising cover song, The Maestro has assembled a very impressive collection of songs. He's thoughtful, contemplative, has a good melodic sense and is more than a little bit morbid -- all excellent qualities for an aspiring singer-songwriter. Considering that this is the Maestro's first release, I can only assume that his craft will grow and improve, and that subsequent offerings will be even more impressive.
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