Upon the release of their most recent album, “Rabbit Habits,” Honus Honus, the front man of mischievous noisemakers Man Man, explained the manic sonic textures at the onset of opener, “Mister Jung Stuffed,” were intended to sound like an overloaded ATM.
“Knuckle Down,” the opening track of Man Man’s latest LP, “Life Fantastic,” begins similarly. But where “Mister Jung Stuffed” progressed into a rollicking, sexy fistful of repressed mania, “Knuckle Down” sounds much more like a machine that has been abused to the point of exhaustion. This difference foreshadows the varied shades of frustration, self-doubt and existential fatigue that thematically distinguish this album from its predecessors.
Of course, typical of Man Man’s signature tomfoolery, at the close of their quasi-apocalyptic first track, the band dives right into “Piranhas Club,” a slippery, sun-drenched doo-wop ditty about weathering life’s tribulations with crazed enthusiasm. It’s the sort of fierce, emotional whiplash they’ve come to master with sadistic precision.
This dichotomy is intentionally prevalent throughout the album. Despite the grotesquely depressing textures and lyrics pervading the track list, there is an underlying optimism and conviction that suggests life, despite its hardships, is truly fantastic.
But, be forewarned: It takes great determination to weather the album’s turmoil in order to understand its latent, and somewhat feeble, sentiments of encouraging solidarity.
To the disappointment of some fans, Man Man seems like it’s outgrowing many of the shenanigans of its past. Its songs are tighter, hooks are more precise and lyrics are more direct. But any frustration with this development is derived from an inability to receive the band’s growth and maturation with an open mind.
Close inspection reveals plentiful treasures to be found. From the musical intricacies and lyrical intensity of “Dark Arts,” “Haute Tropique” and “Shameless,” to the haunting minimalism of “Steak Knives” or the piercing tragedy of “Spookie Jookie,” the album is fiercely evocative and delicately crafted in every way.
Typical of my experiences with the band’s previous releases, my favorite tracks, both for musicianship and lyrical depth, are the final two. The title track is dark and haunting with a smooth piano line augmented by slippery guitar jabs. It showcases the band’s ability to unravel a controlled melody into a thrilling chaotic catharsis and somehow bring it all back to Earth in a musically sensible way.
The album closer, “Oh! la Brea,” starts in a jarringly jaunty fashion, but collapses into a soft a cappella croon reminiscent of “Ice Dogs.” In these final moments, Honus’ lyrics and somber vocal delivery epitomize the homeless, existential disillusionment that pervades the album. In lines like, “It seems that the scenery is about settling on a piece of ballast known as a wedding,” he seems to sigh more than sing.
Despite its departure from many of the traditions Man Man fans have come to love, Life Fantastic is a gripping and welcome addition to their catalog. If you approach it with an open mind and a sincere heart, it’ll move and groove you, jump and jive you, just as well as any of their previous releases.
So tune in, turn up and fall into the “ebb and the flow of losing your mind sometimes and letting go.”
