ARTIST: Dosh
TITLE: Tommy
LABEL: Anticon Records
GENRE: Indie
BITRATE: 196kbps avg
PLAYTIME: 0h 43m total
RELEASE DATE: 2010-04-13
RIP DATE: 2010-07-22
Track List
----------
1. Subtractions 4:18
2. Yer Face 3:22
3. Number 41 3:04
4. Town Mouse 3:09
5. Loud 3:31
6. Airlift 3:58
7. County Road X 5:05
8. Call The Kettle 5:38
9. Nevermet 3:23
10. Gare De Lyon 8:29
Release Notes:
http://www.myspace.com/doshanticon
There are at least three things weÆve been able to count on in the reliable
career of Minneapolis-based multi-instrumentalist and Anticon mainstay Martin
Dosh. The first is percussion; perhaps because it seems to be his first love and
he teaches kids how to hit the skins by day, he treats almost all of his
instruments as he would a drum, pounding percussive jams out of an
indie-electronic setup. The second one is improvement. With each new record,
Dosh has found better ways of articulating his musical ambitions. Whatever you
think of his eponymous debut and its follow-up, Pure Trashùslight recordings for
blurred electric piano and ramshackle hip-hop drummingùthey were clearly dry
runs for the music he was about to make. On The Lost Take (2006), he flirted
with pop and trotted out a wonderful cast of now-regular collaborators; two
years later on Wolves and Wishes, he doubled the personnel and threw half a
dozen counterpoints into the pot, sending the songs awhirl.
ItÆs the sense of personal warmth in DoshÆs music, however, that carries the
dayùno small accomplishment for an artist whoÆs barely sung a note. HeÆs known
to crossbreed his art with his life in sweetly unexpected ways: proposing
marriage on a Pure Trash track, naming an EP after his young son, striking a
close and unlikely friendship with Andrew Bird and collaborating on tours and
records. But even as these stories have become part of his mythology, the
musicÆs amiable quality is still very underrated. In another heartfelt move
thatÆs likely to go relatively unnoticed, Dosh has titled his fifth full-length
record Tommy, not after the rock opera but his sound engineer Tom Cesario, who
passed away two years ago at the age of 35. The two attended the same high
school and became good friends in the music scene, first in Brooklyn and then in
the Twin Cities, before Dosh hired Cesario to work his tours in 2006. ôTom loved
being on the road, fixing things,ö Dosh wrote in a letter. ôHe loved to tell
stories. He loved food, and knew the coolest restaurants in every city.ö ItÆs
apparent in the subtly touching writing that they enriched each otherÆs lives,
the way it probably is with everyone to whom Dosh is close.
Tommy is not explicitly a funereal record, but thereÆs a melancholic air blowing
through it that seems to constantly refer back to CesarioÆs passing, even when
the musicians are working up a sweat. Dosh puts his best foot forward on all of
his records, and the leadoff track is the requisite stunner, a feast of funk
drumming, keyboard, sax and scat singing that eats syncopation for breakfast.
Something about it, though, feels moody, even mournful, like a whooping death
ceremony. After all, itÆs called ôSubtractionsö. But Dosh deals in poignancy,
not sadness, and he often suggests absence rather than pulling the pieces out.
The loping, full-bodied hip-hop of ôAirliftöùto my eyes, another death
referenceùencapsulates Tommy in four near-perfect minutes, its reflective groove
riding on a stretcher rotating higher and higher into the sky. All without a
decrease in volume. Loud and intimate, centrifugally swirling and strangely
suspended, Tommy expresses DoshÆs virtuosity and emotiveness in roughly equal
proportion. ItÆs his most melodic work, and, perhaps to those who take mourning
as the æselected factÆ around which the music constellates, the hardest one to
swallow.
Additionally, Andrew Bird has more of a presence on Tommy than heÆs had on every
Dosh record combined. Not only does he sing on two songs and play violin on
others, his influence is all over the album in a way itÆs never been. Bird gives
Dosh a dollop of indie rock classicism the way that Dosh has helped Bird to
lighten up, and the two make wonderful music, bolstered by the sincerity of
their friendship outside the studio. On ôNumber 41ö, they turn Uncle KrackerÆs
country/hip-hop hybrid on its head, finding a way for the beat, lap steel, and
honky-tonk piano to combine authentically. Bird assumes the role of country
crooner spinning a metaphoric yarn in the vein of Freakwater: ôIf lifeÆs a race,
you surely wonö. By comparison, their second effort is more of a bonus;
ôNevermetö has Bird trying to find the progression in DoshÆs looped composition
with some difficulty, but their good intentions hold the song together. ItÆs the
instrumental ôCountry Road Xö that channels Bird most of all, and for Dosh, it
represents unprecedented levels of lump-in-the-throat emotionality. ItÆs TommyÆs
starkest track by miles, and in the moments when the drums drop out to let the
guitar and piano speak softly, itÆs terribly apparent that something significant
has gone.
In my experience of listening, the drums have been the most forgettable and
least important aspect of this record, which doesnÆt mean they arenÆt
impressive. They are, as always, but an inexplicable force prevents me from
paying attention to them and blocks them out of memory. Drums create and
symbolize form, presence. They move things along and materialize order. Tom
Cesario died by falling out of his bed into a position in which he couldnÆt
breathe. ThereÆs no order in that. ItÆs hard to say whether Tommy is the
incremental improvement we anticipate from Dosh. Certain songs feel superfluous
(ôLoudö), and others are overcooked (ôCall the Kettleö, previously on his Powder
Horn CD-R). Even the sound quality isnÆt as high as itÆs been, which may or may
not be a message to Cesario that he is missed. But Tommy isnÆt the kind of
record that prioritizes forward momentum. This is Dosh taking a step back,
slowing down, freaking out a little (check the snarling ending of album finale
ôGare de Lyonö), and making the most personal music of his career. Andrew Bird
put it best: Life isnÆt a raceùyou donÆt win anything by finishing first. The
axiom is both a beacon for Dosh and a bitterly ironic take on a life that
finished far too soon.