As far as I'm concerned, Stephin Merritt is a pop genius. The man known as "Mr. Magnetic Fields" has pulled out of his hat some of the most romantic, eclectic, personal and self-mockingly languid records of the last decade of American pop music. This year Stephin isn't reincarnating himself as any of his numerous alter egos (for the record: The Magnetic Fields, The 6ths, Future Bible Heroes and The Gothic Archies), but is working under his own name, on a rather singular solo record. "Showtunes", as the title reveals, is a collection of short pieces Merritt composed for Chinese playwright Chen Shi-Zheng, and, although Nonesuch is a label that releases bona fide albums (just take a look at its artist roster), it's still astonishing how much creative control he commands, enough not only to score three Chinese stage works but to release an album of twenty-six mini-operettas.
And by operettas I mean exactly those little arias from the operatic tradition, stripped of their high drama by the actors' picturesque delivery and by the absence of a symphony orchestra. Merritt's are all the more peculiar, because alongside the soft, beloved instruments of the American south-west tradition (banjo, lute, zither, ukulele), he adds a hefty dose of Eastern sounds (playing traditional Chinese instruments like the pipa, the jinghu, the yangqin and the erhu, or Chinese violin), on top of his usual eclectic touches (ukulele, marimba and other oddball percussion).
I'm no expert on Chinese theatre, but despite the "westernized" versions of Zheng's works (including the much-lauded "The Orphan Of Zhao") that this record draws on, it's clear we're dealing with a theatre of strong ritual, with actors who seem like masks and very defined recitative-musical patterns, not unlike kabuki theatre. It's not, on closer inspection, the first time our man has shown an interest in this kind of music, and anyone who owns the legendary "69 Love Songs" by Magnetic Fields may well remember a track like "King Of The Boudoir".
Well, here are 26 songs of that same kind, if anything even more paradoxical in the contrast between music and lyrics, which often tip into the comic-grotesque, as in the downright fantastical episodes of "At Madam Plum's" or "What A Fucking Lovely Day". But once you get past the shock of the falsetto vocals, you'll also find difficult themes handled with unmatched delicacy: "The Little Hebrew Girl" (religious conflict), or "Sorry, Wrong Show" (suicide), without having to give up the legendary Merritt-style doses of pop romanticism found in "Shall We Sing A Duet?" and "Ukulele Me!".
Stephin Merritt frames Chinese theatre with melodies that feel out of space and time, sketching out arrangements that are at once classic and original, as if with his eyes closed. Seeing Stephin's big face on the cover, transfigured by the weight of costume and make-up, brings a smile, but also a touch of saudade at not being able to see him after the pose, in the intimate, complicit atmosphere of his songs and of the dressing room, as he removes his stage make-up like Charlie Chaplin's clown in "Limelight".
The rating is a political one, because you can't give an Arabic numeral to a Chinese show.
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25/04/2006
This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by Veronica Rosi, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.