Monsters of Folk album review

Find the fallacy:

If 1+1+1+1=4,

then one great indie songwriter + one great indie songwriter + one great indie songwriter + one great indie producer = four great indie musicians.

Answer: The equation is not correct in all possible scenarios because Conor Oberst + Matt Ward + Jim James + Mike Mogis = so much more than four great indie musicians. They're the Monsters of Folk.

That said, if this band were even close to the sum of its parts, the world wouldn't have survived past the Sept. 22 release date because it would be blown away by creative genius. Luckily, we've survived because it's not humanly possible for anything to be four times as good as a single one of these artists.

Some five years ago, Oberst, Ward, James and Mogis collaborated for a short stint of east coast tour dates. The group only played a few shows then they separated again to their own highly successful creative endeavors. Oberst jumped back in with his band Bright Eyes, which could nearly be called Oberst's personal pseudonym along with two other regular contributors, including Mogis. Oberst would also go on create two "solo" albums with Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band within a few years. Ward continued to be a solo guitar virtuoso in a generation with few representatives, playing as M. Ward and later collaborating with actress Zooey Deschanel for the critically acclaimed She & Him. James' southern rock band My Morning Jacket launched into its most successful years yet, and Mogis jumped back in with Bright Eyes while producing albums by everyone from Rilo Kiley to the Faint (pretty much anyone who has stepped foot in the state of Nebraska in the last decade--and that's a compliment).

When the musicians played this short tour, they realized how much fun it was to collaborate together with like minds and planned to rendezvous again later. They didn't necessarily promise an album, but they hoped to get together again soon. They didn't plan a full five year break, but they also didn't plan to be as successful as each and every one of them was in those years.

Earlier this year, they gathered in the musical mecca of Omaha, Neb. with no particular goal in mind. What emerged was "Monsters of Folk," the self-titled album that was released Tuesday.

Back on that short east coast tour, they referred to themselves jokingly by the lofty title Monsters of Folk. It was never an official title, and they didn't particularly want it to be. But when they went to give themselves an official name, nothing else worked. They've admitted that the title is a gag, but I think that if each of them comprehends the slightest of their individual talent, they won't be as ashamed of that name and critics can stop scoffing it.

The album itself isn't an absolute surprise. Each songwriter has five songs on the final cut, and they sing leads on their songs, with the others adding vocals. "Losin Yo Head" would be at home on My Morning Jacket's 2008 album "Evil Urges." "Slow Down Jo" could have been placed in the middle of Ward's album "Hold Time" released earlier this year (or it would have fit blasting out of a transistor radio in 1940, but that goes for just about any song Ward has ever penned). "Temazcal" actually does sound quite like a track on Oberst's first solo album, released last year.

But with the Monsters of Folk treatment, these tracks aren't just solo tracks. While the songwriter generally sings lead, sometimes the other singers trade off verses, and they always contribute background harmonies. This may sound like nothing, and if that's the case, listen to one song by each of these three four singers (Try "Vincent O'Brien" for Ward, "Road to Joy" for Oberst, and "I'm Amazed" for James--youtube links at bottom). They have very distinct voices, with Oberst's raucous growl (That Bright Eyes video has a classic Oberst lyric: "I could have been a famous singer if I had someone else's voice. But failure always sounded better, let's fuck it up boys make some noise!") blending with Ward's melting ice cream voice. James' more conventionally tasteful range rounds out the sound, lending an effect that doesn't blend at all. On any given note you can pick out each singer in the harmony.

The supergroup has the most success when the songwriters' individual styles aren't as evident. This isn't often as I could pick out from literally the first note on my first listen of the album who wrote each song (that's how distinct their songwriting is as well), but when it does happen, it's great. The first single "Say Please" is an example of this. Ward's voice booms out first, but the singers alternate verses, choruses and even the exclamations of "darlin'" in absolute democracy. "Whole Lotta Losin'" owes more to the early rock & roll of Buddy Holly and Chuck Berry than any of these songwriters, and it shines because of that. This track also allows for the most truth in the Traveling Wilburys comparisons.

While it most definitely isn't a sum of its parts, it is excellent songwriting, production, and most of all, it brought about a challenge that these artists needed at this point in their careers. Not only did they step out of their comfort zone by playing every instrument on the record (not bad for four guitarists), the diverse songwriting brought each musician out of his box. James' lyrics have often, for lack of a more descriptive word, sucked. Likewise, Oberst has written some pretty sucky melodies. But together, James' deep melodies with Oberst's unparalleled lyrics make an unbeatable song. And while Ward is possibly the best folk guitarist currently playing, sometimes his songwriting doesn't allow for his natural instrumental and vocal talent to show. The few times when I couldn't instantly name the vocal were when Ward was singing in a range that his own songwriting has never allowed for, and the effect was great.

The cynicism is great amid this album--just the word supergroup has such connotations. While these four guys may not equal the combined power of George Harrison, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, Roy Obison and Jeff Lynne, I honestly would have a hard time thinking of a better indie dream team (just for fun I'd throw in Ben Gibbard, Jeff Tweedy, and Colin Meloy, but now we've got too much creativity for an entire children's book).

And to combat the arguments about the ridiculous name, I ask this: If not these guys, who are the monsters of folk? Even Bob Dylan doesn't stick to the folk genre anymore, and precious few have tried to carry on the torch. These four men are among the very few that have dabbled (dabbled is the key--they sure aren't true folk, certainly not on this album) successfully into this genre in recent years, and for that reason, they absolutely deserve to be called the monsters of the genre.


To get a small sample of their brilliance, check out this video:



Examples of each songwriter individually: