My Love/Hate Relationship With Transference

Artist: Spoon
Album: Transference
Label: Merge

      I am not a Spoon fan. I was not a Spoon fan before hearing Transference. I am not a Spoon fan now, after hearing Transference. So if you are reading this as a faithful follower of the band, you should probably stop and go do something else. Make a sandwich. Get married. Take a shower. The possibilities are endless, really.
      For those of you still reading, what you are about to encounter is an unabashedly ignorant review of the band’s latest album for people who were intrigued by the cover art, people who found the album on sale somewhere, or people who have always wondered if Spoon was worth a listen.
      The short answer? Yes, they are worth a listen. Despite my dislike for many of the songs, I find that I respect the album as an artistic work. I even enjoy a couple of the tunes. But on the whole, the album really grates on my nerves.
      The first thing I noticed about Transference is how sparse it sounds. Each musical component stands out distinctly in the mix. Each jab on the guitar, each hit on the snare, each tap on the keyboard--it’s all right there, smacking you in the face with every beat.
      “Before Destruction” opens the album with a steady, pulsing rhythm. This rhythm lies at the heart of Spoon’s music. While the basic beat morphs continuously throughout the album, it always retains an almost primitive simplicity, a primal immediacy that is hard to ignore.
      Over this trance-inducing beat the band plays straight-ahead rock and roll in a decidedly un-rock and roll fashion. Many of the typical rock signifiers are present (loud guitars, drums, etc...), but almost none of the rock attitude. It almost feels like the band is too practiced. Like they could play these songs in their sleep. In fact, it almost feels like they are asleep. Or zombies, maybe.
      While the zombie musicians play rock and roll, Britt Daniels sings about…something. The first line of the album is “Before destruction, a man’s heart is haughty.” You have to admit, this hardly sounds like inspired lyricism, or even lyricism at all. But Daniels makes it work with a careful mix of menace, swagger, and boredom.
      I am hard-pressed to adequately describe his style of vocal delivery. His voice doesn’t stretch too many boundaries or do too many tricks. He doesn’t sound overly emotional, but avoids being too distanced. Now and again he slips in a falsetto note or two. But generally he just…sings. The tone is vaguely reminiscent of an old-fashioned Brit-pop band, but with a good deal of 21st century fatalism stuffed in for good measure. Britt’s voice, like Spoon’s music in general, is composed, simple, and well-executed.
      I would argue this is what is so uncomfortable about Spoon. Whereas an ordinary band would launch into an anthemic chorus or a raunchy guitar solo or two, Spoon never does. Transference is the skeleton of an album. Every song feels like it is preparing for something, getting itself ready, then vanishing instantly. Like this review.