Magnetic Fields Albums (10)
What The Critics Say
Stephin Merritt celebrates all that is fuzzy, sexy, and drenched in reverb on Distortion, a 13-track rendering of the Jesus and Mary Chain's Psychocandy through the barbed sieve of the Magnetic Fields mastermind's seemingly endless notebook of relationship dos and don'ts and self-effacing cognitive therapy sessions. The unwavering decision to match the production with the album title is admirable, but one that will no doubt filter out the listeners who rely on Merritt's simple, clean melodicism to reel them in. By mirroring the lo-fi sunshine goth aesthetic that the Reid brothers so effortlessly beat into the ground in the mid- to late '80s, Distortion becomes more about style than substance, often burying the lyrics in an avalanche of mud that clings to each instrument (be it cello, Farfisa organ, accordion, or guitar) like pet hair on a pea coat. That said, patience rewards those who stick around for the credits, and acclimation to the pounding (yet still sweet) industrial landscapes comes about eight songs in with the instant classic "Too Drunk to Dream," a vintage Fields rave-up that launches out of a Gregorian-style intro that boldly proclaims "Sober, life is a prison/Shitfaced, it is a blessing/Sober, nobody wants you/Shitfaced, they're all undressing." It's a double-sided hook that clears the murkiness from the remaining five tracks, while simultaneously improving the first half (especially tracks like "California Girls" and "Please Stop Dancing") when spun for a second or third time. As usual, Merritt doles out vocal duties like handbills, making the whole affair feel a little more like a 6ths production rather than a Magnetic Fields event, and Shirley Simms, who lent her lovely pipes to 69 Love Songs and 2006's Showtunes, provides the album with many of its finest moments, specifically the infectious "Drive on, Driver" and the lovely closer, "Courtesans." In the end, though, even Simms' impossibly fluid voice can't cut through all of the noise. In some ways, it feels like a step backward, and even if that was the intention, it's disappointing to climb Distortion's many lovely peaks, only to be obscured by clouds. ~ James Christopher Monger, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
The explosion of material that resulted in the Magnetic Fields' triple-disc opus 69 Love Songs would've wiped out the average tunesmith, but mastermind Stephin Merritt wields a pen of bottomless ink. Like a long-distance runner, he paced himself, saving up material lest his many guises should grow restless. The 6ths released Hyacinths and Thistles the following year; 2002 saw the sophomore effort from the Future Bible Heroes and the soundtrack to the James Bolton film Eban and Charley; and in 2003 he scored yet another soundtrack, this time to the Katie Holmes drama Pieces of April. Nearly five years after Love Songs, the Magnetic Fields returned with i, a "synth free" collection of love, life, and loss that relies heavily on cello, guitar, and that most selfish of vowels, the letter I. Merritt's kitchen produces pop confections that can rot teeth, but the bitter aftertaste owes more to Randy Newman than it does Belle & Sebastian. He may be a stalker of clever rhymes about hopeless romantics and lost opportunities, but it's the failed and despondent receiving the brunt of his obsessive detail. On the deceptive lullaby "I Was Born," he laments, "Growing older is killing a child who laughed and smiled at anything." The specter of age is not immune to the pain of a broken heart, and the dense Brill Building aesthetic of songs like "I Don't Believe You" and "Looked All Over Town" resonate with the kind of desperation that's usually reserved for the young and naïve, but has manifested itself into -- to quote a song title from the 6ths -- an "Aging Spinster." Musically, i isn't that much of a departure from previous outings, as the "organic" instrumentation is often treated with the same effects that Merritt utilizes on his synth-based recordings. Cabaret-style pieces like "In an Operetta" are lent added weight by the self-described "awful" singer's newfound range, and when he unveils a surprisingly sweet and delicate falsetto on the gorgeous closer, "It's Only Time," the listener's voice breaks right along with him. There are plenty of prolific artists putting to tape their every whim, and Merritt's no exception. He may spread himself thin when overseeing his army of side projects, but when he leads his Magnetic Fields into battle, the results are always in the public's favor. ~ James Christopher Monger, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
As the sprawling magnitude of its cheeky title suggests, 69 Love Songs is Stephin Merritt's most ambitious as well as most fully realized work to date, a three-disc epic of classically chiseled pop songs that explore both the promise and pitfalls of modern romance through the jaundiced eye of an irredeemable misanthrope. A true A-to-Z catalog of touchingly bittersweet love songs that runs the gamut from tender ballads to pithy folk tunes to bluesy vamps, the sheer scope of the record allows all of Merritt's musical personas to converge -- the regular use of guest vocalists recalls his work as the 6ths, the romantic fatalism suggests the Gothic Archies project, and the stately melodies evoke the Future Bible Heroes. The whole is much greater than the sum of its parts, however -- for all of Merritt's scathing wit and icy detachment, there's a depth and sensitivity to these songs largely absent from his past work, and each one of these 69 tracks approaches l'amour from refreshing angles, galvanizing the love song form with rare sophistication and elegance. The third disc is even more eclectic than its predecessors, embracing everything from lush pop ballads (the sumptuous "Busby Berkeley Dreams") to winsome folk songs ("Acoustic Guitar") to Reich-ian tape constructions ("Experimental Music Love"). Still, even though each of 69 Love Songs' three discs is available separately, it was nevertheless conceived as a whole and is best absorbed as such, with all of its twists and turns taken in stride; despite its three-hour length the music boasts the craftsmanship and economy that remain the hallmarks of classic American pop songwriting, a tradition Merritt upholds even as he subverts the formula in new and brilliant ways. ~ Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
As the sprawling magnitude of its cheeky title suggests, 69 Love Songs is Stephin Merritt's most ambitious as well as most fully realized work to date, a three-disc epic of classically chiseled pop songs that explore both the promise and pitfalls of modern romance through the jaundiced eye of an irredeemable misanthrope. A true A-to-Z catalog of touchingly bittersweet love songs that runs the gamut from tender ballads to pithy folk tunes to bluesy vamps, the sheer scope of the record allows all of Merritt's musical personas to converge -- the regular use of guest vocalists recalls his work as the 6ths, the romantic fatalism suggests the Gothic Archies project, and the stately melodies evoke the Future Bible Heroes. The whole is much greater than the sum of its parts, however -- for all of Merritt's scathing wit and icy detachment, there's a depth and sensitivity to these songs largely absent from his past work, and each one of these 69 tracks approaches l'amour from refreshing angles, galvanizing the love song form with rare sophistication and elegance. The second disc is considerably more eccentric than the first, opening with the a cappella "Roses" and heading directly into the faux-bop "Love Is Like Jazz"; at times the music strays too far off course, but each time Merritt pulls back the reins with another superb pop gem like the lovely piano ballad "Very Funny" or the remarkable "Asleep and Dreaming," perhaps the most convincing and honest love song he's ever composed. Still, even though each of 69 Love Songs' three discs is available separately, it was nevertheless conceived as a whole and is best absorbed as such, with all of its twists and turns taken in stride; despite its three-hour length the music boasts the craftsmanship and economy that remain the hallmarks of classic American pop songwriting, a tradition Merritt upholds even as he subverts the formula in new and brilliant ways. ~ Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
As the sprawling magnitude of its cheeky title suggests, 69 Love Songs is Stephin Merritt's most ambitious as well as most fully realized work to date, a three-disc epic of classically chiseled pop songs that explore both the promise and pitfalls of modern romance through the jaundiced eye of an irredeemable misanthrope. A true A-to-Z catalog of touchingly bittersweet love songs that runs the gamut from tender ballads to pithy folk tunes to bluesy vamps, the sheer scope of the record allows all of Merritt's musical personas to converge -- the regular use of guest vocalists recalls his work as the 6ths, the romantic fatalism suggests the Gothic Archies project, and the stately melodies evoke the Future Bible Heroes. The whole is much greater than the sum of its parts, however -- for all of Merritt's scathing wit and icy detachment, there's a depth and sensitivity to these songs largely absent from his past work, and each one of these 69 tracks approaches l'amour from refreshing angles, galvanizing the love song form with rare sophistication and elegance. The first volume is the strongest and most straightforward, boasting the prettiest melodies and most sparkling arrangements; despite the occasional intrusion of filler like "Punk Love," the material is mostly superb, with the mournful "I Don't Believe in the Sun," the self-deprecating "All My Little Words," and the wistful "Come Back From San Francisco" emerging among Merritt's finest efforts. Still, even though each of 69 Love Songs' three discs is available separately, it was nevertheless conceived as a whole and is best absorbed as such, with all of its twists and turns taken in stride; its three-hour length aside, the music boasts the craftsmanship and economy that remain the hallmarks of classic American pop songwriting, a tradition Merritt upholds even as he subverts the formula in new and brilliant ways. ~ Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Stephin Merritt's homespun (although not carelessly lo-fi) approach to electronic pop is a big part of the Magnetic Fields' charm, but he may be starting to stretch it to the limit with Get Lost. The most electro-oriented of their releases to date, it's also perhaps their least engaging, although the brooding ballad "Don't Look Away" is one of their best songs. They may want to start thinking about varying their synthetic percussions and patterns more, as these are starting too sound a little too boxy and similar for comfort. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide
'The Charm of the Highway Strip'
Release Date 1/1/1994
Tracks 10
Label Merge
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Stephin Merritt took more of a narrative approach than usual on The Charm of the Highway Strip, which was in part inspired (as the title indicates) by on-the-road experiences and exhibited a (very slight) country influence. Not as good as Holiday, although it has characteristically agile songwriting and production. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Magnetic Fields' third release, 1993's Holiday, was the first to be sung by Stephin Merritt, original lead singer Susan Anway having moved to Arizona from the duo's Massachusetts home. It's difficult to remember after several albums how profoundly odd Merritt's voice, a deep baritone with sleepy phrasing that vacillates mostly between the poles of deadpan wryness and romantic longing, sounded on first exposure. That voice is so perfect for Merritt's remarkable lyrical sense, however, with its striking imagery, Cole Porter-level rhymes, and mix of mordant wit and unabashed romanticism, that Holiday is in many ways the first true Magnetic Fields record. Early Magnetic Fields albums each had a specific and unique sound. Holiday has the flavor of early-'80s synth pop of the Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark (circa Architecture and Morality) stripe. The songs are melodic and immediately accessible, but with a chilly tone and a predilection for odd noises and unexpected accents. The songwriting is a huge leap beyond the first two Magnetic Fields albums, which have their share of gems but are unfortunately uneven. Every track here is a winner, with the percolating "Strange Powers" and the wistful "The Flowers She Sent and the Flowers She Said She Sent" the highest points. Merritt would eventually abandon this synth pop sound on Magnetic Fields records in favor of an increasingly acoustic and delicate feel, though his albums with Future Bible Heroes have a similarly electronic sheen. ~ Stewart Mason, All Music Guide
'The Wayward Bus'
Release Date 1/1/1991
Tracks 20
Label Feel Good All Over
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
The sound of The Wayward Bus is quite similar to Distant Plastic Trees, filled as it is with walls of cheap synthesizers and drum machines while featuring the haunting vocals of Susan Anway. The atmosphere of the album is also, like its predecessor, filled with a sort of melancholic wistfulness. Yet there are major differences between the two records. Primarily, The Wayward Bus works in many ways as a tribute of sorts to Phil Spector and Brian Wilson. Several tracks here use the rhythms to Spector's "Be My Baby," while the theme of summer love often recurs. Furthermore, there is little of the out-and-out experimentation heard on the debut, while Merritt added cello and horns to his music for the first time. While there's nothing here as gorgeous as "100,000 Fireflies," the record is more consistent than The Wayward Bus, and the simple beauty of tracks like "Lovers From the Moon" and "Candy" rank among Merritt's best songwriting, as does the Japanese pop pastiche, "Tokyo a Go-Go." Anway's last album with the group, The Wayward Bus was later released on one CD with Distant Plastic Trees. ~ Geoff Orens, All Music Guide
'Distant Plastic Trees'
Release Date 1/1/1990
Tracks 10
Label Red Flame
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
The Magnetic Fields debut, Distant Plastic Trees, is a fine album in its own right, although to many fans of the group it will serve more as a blueprint for Stephin Merritt's later work. One of two albums recorded with vocalist Susan Anway, the record makes amazing use of cheap keyboards and drum machines to create a series of diverse sounding songs that exude a timeless wistfulness, simplicity, and a rural atmosphere. As fine as the Magnetic Fields later work is, this feel was never was quite duplicated. "Smoke Signals" and "100,000 Fireflies" are among Merritt's best songs, with beautiful instrumentation and haunting vocals. When the songwriter pursues more of an experimental vision, as on "Kings" and the cover of "Babies Falling," the results are interesting, but lack the sheer beauty of the record's best moments, like the quiet simplicity of "Josephine." The album also contains the first of Merrit's forays into other musical styles, the Appalachian-drenched "Tar-Heel Boy." The record was later combined with 1991's The Wayward Bus on one CD. ~ Geoff Orens, All Music Guide
