Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Mal Blum, You Look A Lot Like Me, 2015

Album Review

by Allyson Dwyer

I heard Mal Blum for the first time when Blum and the band were right in front of me, on stage at the Knitting Factory Brooklyn. It was February, at the annual Don Giovanni Showcase, and I knew I was going to love everything they did by the end of the first song. Beyond Mal Blum's charming and funny stage presence, I was taken aback by Blum's immediate honesty in just what these songs were: musings on recent bouts of depression and the struggles to get through the episodes. Stinging pretty close to the heart, these songs and Blum's lyrics really spoke to me. Blum mentioned that many of these songs were from an upcoming album about that very subject, and I've been waiting since.

Now it's autumn. Since time just seems to pass by so quickly and my identification with the topic at hand hasn't altered, the wait didn't feel so long. You Look A Lot Like Me is a little bit more upbeat in its formal, mastered form than I anticipated from the live versions, but -- with that adjustment -- it's an album of ten very precise, fully-formed songs that seem more sure of themselves than they let on. And with Marissa Paternoster involved (as co-producer with Kyle Gilbride, second guitar, and backing vocals), there is a hint of additional personality there that embellishes what I heard back in the cold of February.

The album opens with the fantastic “Archive,” which ends with the anxiety inducing: “We're gonna die / and maybe it's gonna be alone / we're gonna die and it's gonna be alone and no one is going to find the things we left behind / because we never thought to leave a fucking archive.” The track is like a self-deprecating prologue -- an announcement of Mal Blum's state of mind when this album came about -- indicating that perhaps this album is just that, an “archive” of this period in Blum's life. And Blum was wise enough to leave that information behind for us, to document this part of a personal story.

You Look A Lot Like Me is full of poppy, bittersweet musings that poke at not just Mal Blum's depressive episodes but also at Blum's personality in relation to others during this time. There's that frequent, underlying current of self-deprecation, such as on tracks like the catchy “Better Go.” In a way, Mal Blum's lyricism reminds me of the raw revelations Rivers Cuomo would share when admitting to his deepest embarrassments and insecurities way back when Weezer was about that. This play of self-doubt against the backdrop of pop continues on tracks such as “Robert Frost,” and “Cool Party.” They sound as though Mal Blum went through an experience, then immediately ran back to jam in the safety and comfort of a garage or bedroom.

“Reality TV” is a standout track, featuring the great mixture of Mal Blum's clever lyrics (“I watch reruns of the Jersey Shore / Snooki drank too much / Now she's on the floor / It's a feeling that I've felt before / But it wasn't televised”) and the strongest influence from Paternoster. Following is “Iowa,” one of my personal favorites. While the rest of the songs on this album feel like they're being sung while snug in Blum's bed, this one is like walking down a NYC street with no coat: “Blow like a blizzard / the wind in the trees / blow like blizzard / me and my needs / blow like a blizzard / and please, pass over me.”

Things take an almost spiritual turn with “Better Than I Was.” The Don Giovanni description of You Look A Lot Like Me states that the album was written during a low period for Blum but recorded during a high. With a line like, “something inside of me says / I'm better than I was,” it all comes into focus, at least for me as a listener. For all of Blum's blunt lyricism, there is a subtle journey on this record -- one that doesn't have a complete ending. But in its documentation, its archiving, this period in Blum's life has been given reason and purpose. By sharing those experiences, Mal Blum makes some of us feel a little less alone.

You Look A Lot Like Me is out now on Don Giovanni Records.

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