Meanderthals

Desire Lines

(Smalltown Supersound)

Record Review by Alex Pudlin

In a previous life I had the honor of playing a clown in a play that mysteriously mixed circus theatrics with the story of labor organizer Mother Jones. Our director began every rehearsal with various warm-up exercises all set to the tune of anonymous new-age atmospheric noodling. I fortunately never had to listen to music like this again. That is until I heard Meanderthals’ debut album Desire Lines.  This curious album from a group comprised of The Idjut Boys and Rune Lindbæk asks the age old question,  “Is there room for New Age and Muzak in the world of hipsters?” My initial gut reaction was understandably no. But I must confess: as soon as I blocked the painful clown memories from my mind and let the Meanderthals’ luscious steel drums, acoustic guitar strums and synthy twinkles slip n’ slide around my ear canals, I began to appreciate Desire Lines as an item of peculiar beauty. Buried under the elevator sheen of it all, Meanderthals have layered an admirable concoction of thick basslines, electric piano runs and effects-laden studio wizardry.
           
Album opener “Kunst or Ars” can best be described as “clean.”  At first the Jon Secada-esque acoustic guitars overwhelm the senses but soon enough a Motown James Jamerson-inspired bassline will force you to dig deeper. You’ll find a light groove that serves as an ideal background soundtrack for everything from work to an afternoon nap. From there, Meanderthals’ overall success/failure ratio hinges both on what they add to the soundscape and what they choose to omit. Entirely instrumental, Meanderthals wisely avoid any wordless chanting to go along with their bursts of tabla and electronic drums. They rely (and even expand) on recognizable musical paradigms, at times channeling an '80s Beverly Hills Cop vibe (“Lassaron Highway”) and, elsewhere, laying down the serene Asian-tinged dub (“1-800-288-Slam”).

Meanderthals also don’t overdue it with the unique sounds. The mix is always meticulously crafted despite what may sound like a cauldron of incense-smoke flavored stew. Imagine guitar assassin Buckethead’s soporific Colma album mixed with the prog-jazz leanings of Tortoise. Moreover, with Desire Lines, Meanderthals achieve a full-scale aural contradiction, combining a genuinely funky rhythm section with soul-less synth backdrops. The result allows the listener to appreciate the grooves but not feel them in any visceral way. Therefore, what could be dance music morphs instead into a modern take on the traditional cocktail party soundtrack.

Although the negative connotations here may seem blatant, Desire Lines wholly satisfies as long as you approach it with a grain of salt. Many will despise Desire Lines for its embrace of easily lampooned genres. Yet if you’re patient, you’ll stop paying attention the pathetic wah-wah guitar of the title track and appreciate that you can hear actual fingers slide on nylon strings and press down electric piano keys. Meanderthals may be smooth, but they’re certainly not comatose.