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Techno DJ Moby is lucky; though an outspoken Christian, he gets ignored by the CCM industry because of his politics, which are decidedly liberal. This may be because his first big-selling album, Everything is Wrong, included two mini-essays, one advocating vegetarianism and the other blasting the religious right with a salvo of Scripture references. You gotta love him. Moby's politics and his prophetic nature are peripheral to his music, though. While 1995's Everything is Wrong was charged with emotion, not all of that emotion was channeled into a jeremiad. The better tracks were unearthly movements designed to inspire worship ("Hymn," "God Moving Over the Face of the Waters"). But after Everything, Moby put out two lackluster albums, Animal Rights (a limp wanna-be industrial album) and I Like to Score (an average collection of soundtrack scores), that lacked the depth of Everything. It is only with his newest album, Play, that Moby has returned to further develop his compositions along the lines of the more spiritual stuff of Everything. And I'm glad he did. Play isn't a "worship album." It's a techno album that happens to have many very reverent, worshipful moments. Sampling from several old-school blues musicians (Bessie Jones, Boy Blue, Vera Hall), Moby has melded them to his otherworldly beats to create Psalm-like moods. The result is a transcendent yet human album, coursing (as the blues does) through a wide range of emotion. The regularity of rural blues lends itself well to being sampled and looped. And Moby has a master's instinct for incorporating the organic, scratchy recordings into his sharp, polished urban sounds. "Honey," for example, is based on the repetition of three lines from the Bessie Smith song "Sometimes," for three minutes, and still Moby expertly develops an ever-changing, yet somehow regular, beat around it. The same is true of "Find my Baby," which begins with a stripped-down vocal and crescendos to an exuberant dance number. Moby isn't stuck in the past, though. He's well aware that today's blues still gets sung in the ghettos, and his hip-hop tributes, "Bodyrock" and "South side," are evidence of that. And not all of the songs are reworkings of old blues numbers; one of the best aspects of Play is the fact that over half of it is trademark Moby -- ethereal, piano-driven loops ("Rushing") and driving dance music ("Machete"). The moods of both the traditional Moby material and the gospel/blues montages flow in and out of each other seamlessly, so that Play comes off like an album-long composition. The best moments of the album are the songs composed around old gospel loops, like "Why does my heart feel so bad," a melancholy nod to Psalm 43, and "Natural Blues," a lonely lamentation centered on the repeated lyric "nobody knows my trouble with God." In songs like this Moby shines, for while the sampled vocalists are mourning their troubles, the DJ is building beats that transform their mourning into dancing. And that
dancing is what ultimately sets the tone for the whole album.
Unlike the
stuff that comes out of Nashville, which tends to lack
emotional and intellectual
credibility, Moby's music actually functions like the Psalms,
not ignoring
the human condition, but at the same time drawing itself
upward, to Christ,
above and beyond, where even the tired, ragged souls who sing
the blues
can dance for joy.
This is
an amazing disk. Dynamically, artistically, lyrically and
compositionally
strong. But the true feat is that this 12-song CD was recorded
largely
in the third-story bedroom of Over The Rhine's Linford
Detweiler. The
lineup reflects the band's 1996 membership: Detweiler (piano,
bass, and
more), Bergquist (vocals, guitar and more), Ric Hordinski
(guitars), and
Brian Kelley (drums), with rapturous cello arrangements by
Norman Johns.
As with any Innocence Mission project the true star here is the stellar writing and exceptional vocals of Karen Peris. Peris is the poet laureate of the everyday, somehow able to find a true sense of wonder and art in the commonplace. The prime example of this is found in the album's first single, "The Lakes of Canada":
Also weaving its way into the mix are several subtle allusions to the band's Christian faith in tracks such as "You Are the Light" and "Birdless." Peris's voice has a sense of childlike wonder throughout that matches the music perfectly and at times calls to mind the work of Julie Miller, Natalie Merchant and Victoria Williams. The perfect
mix of art and intimacy, Birds of My Neighborhood is an
unqualified
triumph for The Innocence Mission. An exceptional record.
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