Travis Morrison Gets Back On the Horse
One time, when I was eight, while playing a softball game on a very busy summer day at Sylvan Lake (near Red Deer, Alberta) my uncle decided it would be a funny idea to pants me while I led-off on first base. Since, we were at a lake, I was wearing my swimming trunks, and since I was wearing my swimming trunks, I was not wearing any underwear. Needless to say, there I was, buck ass naked from the waist down, still in my crouch, hoping to steal second. Hundreds of people staring. I quickly hiked up my trunks, turned around to my uncle in shock and burst into tears. Desperate to hide myself from anyone’s vision, I ran to the nearest place that would conceal me, my uncle’s arms (talk about a guilt trip).
I get the feeling that Travis Morrison can relate. Three years ago, fresh off the break-up of his highly regarded (especially by yours truly) band, the Dismemberment Plan, Travis Morrison decided to go solo. The Dismemberment Plan were the most literate, risk-taking and musically accomplished band the world of underground music had ever seen (and probably will ever see). And at the helm of the ship was Morrison, consummate showman and a musical dynamo to boot. I still remember seeing the Plan for the first time in Bellingham, WA. Morrison had a commanding stage presence that was made all the more effective by his mischievous grin (reminding me of a young, thin Mark Mckinney) and his winsome joie de vivre. The Plan were amazing, but everyone knew that Morrison was the main attraction.
Building up what he thought was enough goodwill with his previous work, Morrison thought that for his first solo outing he would follow his muse and indulge all of his wildest and strangest instincts. Little did he know that his record, the ironically and unfortunately titled Travistan, would be met with a seething hatred that perhaps hadn’t been seen in the history of music criticism, or at least not in the cozy little world of indie rock. Worst of all, the perceived Anton Egos of the music world, Pitchfork (who were perhaps the first website to fanatically trump the Dismemberment Plan), gave the album its worst rating ever, the dreaded 0.0. The vitriol was evident in Chris Dahlen’s infamous review*. Dahlen’s disgust is probably best summed up in this passage:
“Travistan fails so bizarrely that it’s hard to guess what Morrison wanted to accomplish in the first place; the guy who led sing-alongs to sold-out crowds can’t find the words on his own album. I’ve never heard a record more angry, frustrated, and even defensive about its own weaknesses, or more determined to slug those flaws right down your throat.”
What hurt the most was that most of the criticism was accurate. As good as the Dismemberment Plan were (and they were very, very good) and as talented and adventurous a performer and songwriter Morrison could be, Travistan was an unmitigated disaster. A 0.0? Probably not. “Che Guevera Poster” is a fine track (which Dahlen admits, contradicting his own score) and “Born in ‘72” hits sublime levels with its nod to Fugazi’s “Break,” but the rest is ugly. And it is ugly in a variety of ways. Each song boasts one lyrical disaster after another and the album’s musicianship and production don’t even come close to matching that of the Dismemberment Plan’s worst studio output. It truly is a ghastly effort.
So what did Travis Morrison do to react to such a public drubbing? He took some time off, traveled, joined a church choir, assembled a new band (called the Hellfighters) and slowly began work on a new album. And the amazing thing is, people still care. Critics use the phrase “long-awaited follow up” to describe an artist’s new album following a critical and commercial breakthrough, but the phrase applies here for the exact opposite reason. There’s a morbid curiosity to see how Morrison reacts to his public humiliation. I ran back into my uncle’s arms, bawling. Morrison is cautiously returning to the same critics who so publicly pantsed him in 2004.
The new album is now streaming on Morrison’s website. It’s called All Y’all, but I get the feeling that at one point Morrison would have preferred the more critic-spiting Fuck All Y’all. Thankfully, he’s kept any reactionary tendencies in check.
I want to avoid all exclamation points or overly enthusiastic praises. It’s a much better album, but I’m still cautious. Morrison is still trying to push the boundaries both lyrically and sonically, and he rides a fine line between genius and idiot. Album opener “I’m Not Supposed to Like You (But)” is a perfect example of this. Dropping in on the same kind of warm, liquid guitar lines that opened the Dismemberment Plan’s “Sentimental Man” (streaming below), “Like You” shows Morrison going back to the formula that has worked so wonderfully for him in the past. A killer mid-verse multi-triplet hook followed by a chorus containing dropped beats and screeching saxophones are the kind of awesome moments that probably would have shown up on a newer Plan track, had the band not broken up. Unfortunately, the melody is mostly tuneless and forgettable, and the lyrics, which were truly the Achilles’ Heel of Travistan, are essentially just a repetition of the songs title. It’s a mixed bag, gotta take the good with the bad. But at least this time around there’s actually a whole lot of good to go with the bad.
“As We Proceed,” on the other hand, is all good. It’s a throwback to the best of the Plan’s Remain In Light era Talking Heads meets Skylarking era XTC work that defined their transcendent swan song, Change. Lyrically, it’s witty and irreverent, recalling the best of Morrison’s perplexing and hilarious storytelling style (“Ice of Boston,” “You Are Invited”) and the escalating melody on the chorus is gorgeous, just like Morrison’s work should be. “As We Proceed” screams “return to form.”
“Catch Up” is the likely going to be All Y’all’s most divisive song with it’s punny lyrics, out-of-nowhere shifts in tempo and mood, and perhaps most of all, it’s Furious Five channeling rapped chorus(!). This’ll likely be the song that the Pitchforks of the world will point to as Morrison’s biggest failure, but the truth is, I really like this song. It’s adventurous, risky and just a little bit stoopid. The beat on the chorus absolutely begs for a counter-rap part and the absolute style shift on the bridge pays off because Morrison is able to bring the song back to its original theme. It’s his most delightfully fun and exciting track since the brilliant “Dismemberment Plan Gets Rich.”
After the bold, inconsistent, but amiable first three tracks, Morrison does something that he has never done before in his career – he plays it safe. Morrison looks into his back catalogue for inspiration, and what he finds is a safer, calmer back eight. Gone is the adventurousness that has defined Morrison’s career, but what appears in its place is assurance and confidence, two things that did not exist on Travistan.
Moments like the delicious lead line of “Just Didn’t Turn Me On” or the subtle plinks on the electric piano on “Book of Names” recall the best moments of Change. Morrison’s unhinged vocal performance on the brilliant “You Make Me Feel Like A Freak” looks farther back into the Plan’s catalogue to 1999’s exceptional Emergency & I or possibly even the Plan’s 1997 breakthrough The Dismemberment Plan is Terrified. These are the songs that impress the most, but judging by Morrison’s past work, moving forward and pushing the boundaries is more his M.O. These songs are not moving forward.
It’s a bittersweet victory, then, for Morrison - All Y’all is a tremendous improvement, though not near perfect. The album peaks when Morrison treads well-worn territory. The moments where Morrison attempts to expand his sound are slightly inconsistent. “I Do” shines until Morrison gets too cute (”I do. I do. I really really do.”) and “Hawkin’s Rock,” a musically inspired track, stalls due to some lyrical misfires. But this all sounds like the fan that says, “I liked his earlier albums better.” It’s a bullshit copout, the kind of fair-weather fan comment that would destroy my credibility if I had any in the first place, but the truth is that maybe Travis Morrison’s genius has lapped him. Morrison, at his worst, is overthinking his lyrics and underthinking his melodies, but when he’s at his best, the music is unparalleled. This album, so far, is very good. In the Pitchfork world of number scores it could likely fall somewhere between a 5 and a 7.5 (to those who just look at the number score and then move on), but I’m enjoying it because I like to be reminded of the sound that inspired me to fall in love with the Plan in the first place.
So the album is a success, though not a success on Morrison’s terms. But after the very public drubbing that befell Travistan, Morrison couldn’t possibly expect to make an album even deeper into his own head and get away with it. All Y’all’s best moments feel slightly compromised, but they also prevent Morrison from getting in his own way. I guess I would normally chastise an artist for playing it safe and sticking with a formula, but when your successful formula is as exciting an adventurous as Morrison’s work with the Dismemberment Plan, then even the harshest critic will be hard-pressed to find fault. It is now safe to listen to Travis Morrison again. And thank God for that.
*The back story to this infamous and heavily publicized review is less infamous and far less heavily publicized. The Travistan review was not entirely unprecedented. In the summer of ’03 Morrison made some posts on his website expressing some less than popular opinions on the Iraq War (more specifically, he dared to say that there was more to it than just “getting oil.” How dare he!). Pitchfork very unnecessarily, right or wrong, decided to publicly ridicule Morrison for his opinions. After this had happened a small handful of times it became increasingly evident that Pitchfork were no longer card-carrying members of the Travis Morrison Fan Club. Then Morrison released a truly terrible album and, well, the rest is history.
May 28th, 2010 at 3:02 pm
Aw, this was a really professional post. In theory I’d like to write like this too - taking time and real effort to make a good article… but what can I say… I procrastinate alot and never seem to get something done.