Review: A.C. Newman’s “Get Guilty”

I’m going to cut to the chase and tell you that A.C. Newman has crafted the first truly infectious, mind-bogglingly great album of 2009.  He may not be a household name but he’s one of the greatest songwriters working today.  His work with his band The New Pornographers has shown his consistency and his power as a writer. His solo records continue to show his immense level of pop-craft.  “Get Guilty” continues the thread began by his 2004 solo debut, “The Slow Wonder.”  That record, in itself is somewhat miraculous and this one equals or betters it.  This is intelligently magnetic, sweetly sticky power-pop which will stick with you and demand repeated listens.  If this record catches you the way it caught me, it won’t be leaving your rotation any time soon.  Like Joe Jackson and Elvis Costello did thirty years ago, Newman writes rock songs which have a higher, more classically-minded edge.  These are heady, thick anthems of love and loss, packed in a scholarly sugar shell.  Jackson and Costello always knew how to keep a great melody from getting too sweet and Newman knows this as well.  His songs are catchy but never cloying or manipulative.  Their appeal is purely natural.  Newman is also not afraid to rock from time to time.  Walls of melodic guitar are all over this record.  Newman also has significant indie cred. The New Pornographers have always been a hit with the hipster circles. In addition, he spent the nineties earning respect in lesser known Canadian bands.  Combine his coolness factor with his indelible sense of melody and he should be unstoppable.  For those of you who miss the inter-gender vocal interplay of the New Pornographers, Newman has enlisted singer Nicole Atkins to sing back-up throughout the album.  Considering Neko Case’s position in the New Pornographers, it is evident that Newman likes to reposition alt-country singers within a power-pop context.  It’s indeed effective.   He also managed enlist the members of Mates of State. The album opens with “There Are Maybe Ten Or Twelve…” a deceptively simple sounding song which will hit you over the head immediately.  The song crashes along, cleverly interspersing beauty and dissonance. It’s a slow number but it plays like an anthem.  A guitar fanfare begins the track with a hint of a fuzz-toned  “Pomp and Circumstance” kind of energy.  Newman then sings, “There are maybe ten or twelve things that I could teach you. / After that, well I think you’re on your own. / That wasn’t the opening line, it was the tenth or the twelfth. / Make of that what you will.”  What a majestic beginning!  The repeated refrain of “Make of that what you will,” is as astounding as it is utterly dismissive.  It’s as if he’s saying, “I’m going to sing my songs for you.  They may educate you and better your life in some way, but take what you want from them.  They are as they stand.”  It’s so straightforward and yet it demands an intense level of focus.  “The Heartbreak Rides” is softer and gentler, having a more acoustic backdrop.  Again, his indie rock side is shown by the hints of electric feedback and guitar harmony interwoven into the mix. When it’s time for a solo, the electric guitar really explodes onto the scene in a huge and undeniable burst. Yes, this is a song about heartbreak and loneliness, but Newman’s sense of melody makes this feeling out to be worthwhile.  It’s strange to say, but a good melody can make even the most painful emotion seem celebratory if it effectively is able to connect to a deeper level of the human experience.  “Like A Hitman, Like A Dancer” is a heavily percussive number.  It begins with several layers of drums, paired with a quickly strummed acoustic guitar line.  Like most of Newman’s work, this song has a peppy, bouncy happiness to its structure.  Even when the lyrics contain dark references, (“Like the old champion about to go under.”)  it sounds like a really joyous party.  These are well-crafted songs suitable for singing out loud with friends.  This record must have been a lot of fun to make. “Prophets” is textbook example of a song building effectively within a three minute period.  Newman sings, “I was a silent partner, I found myself with the rabble who stood on the mount, / Hipshot, thinking  but not out loud:/ ‘There are too many prophets here.’” As he continues to tell his story, the music continues to swell.  The background singers begin to sing, “One by one, by one, by one” repeatedly until it all comes to head and everybody sings the chorus and defining line, “Strike on, zero,” with the tight tenacity of a well-rehearsed choir.   Is Newman saying to beware of false prophets?  It’s not easy to tell, but it makes for an excellent song.    Next, Newman goes from pseudo-biblical to discussing Swedish sea scenes.  “Submarines Of Stockholm” is the one track on the album which shows any hint of musical darkness.  It plods along like an ominous march, yet as it progresses it still has occasional hints of warmth.  Is this a song about any real war or is it just a language game?  His vague lyrical combinations give the track a fitting, mysterious feel. “Thunderbolts” is another rhythm-centric example.  Each syllable of each word is mirrored by a beat.  They keep a slow but tight pace.  In the background, a ticking layer of guitars fills the spaces as if counting the seconds like a clock.  This is very meticulous work.  The song stops and starts with great precision.  It’s an interesting progression from “Submarines Of Stockholm.”  It almost has the same energy but it also has a sad brightness.  “The Palace At 4 AM” is another bright, upbeat number about “some Polynesian dive downwind from the badlands.”  The track gloriously unfurls.  It’s catchy.  It’s musically happy. It’s melodic.  It’s Newman at his best. “The Changeling (Get Guilty)” begins as a waltz of sorts.  Repeated keyboard chording gives the song a nifty swing.  Again, on top of a cheer-inducing melody, you have some darker lyrics. (“It’s not war, it’s more like a warning. / There were front row tickets to the public burning…”)  It continues on until suddenly, the music recedes to an acoustic guitar, with Newman effectively repeating the line, “Go with the same cruel sense of humor that you came with.” The song bursts back up, with a chorus singing loudly, “Change your mind!” It’s not passive.  Performed this way, it’s a demand.  Newman knows how to use volume levels to his benefit.  This song is indeed a highlight. “Elemental” makes a simple repeated piano and guitar line sound downright orchestral.  During the chorus, the tempo changes and subtly swirling organs add background texture.  Once again, Newman aims to be recording something important.    “Young Atlantis” begins with a nearly isolated, dramatic string-section before another waltz rhythm comes in back. A soft, peaceful, straightforward acoustic guitar-line gives the song a backbone, while Newman sings one of his most melodically twisting melodies.  The song has an appeal which isn’t unlike that of the Shins’ best work, but at the same time it sounds like it would have fit very well on The New Pornographers excellent 2007 record, “Challengers.”    “The Collected Works” is a swirling rocker which references “a tempest” and “war.”  There’s great turmoil in this track and Newman has some clever lines.  (“…the empty bottles of coup d’etat at your feet.”)  He also proves he can rock out while singing intriguingly puzzling lines like, “Here is the entrance I’d expected from the collected works of exits.”    The album closes with “All My Days And All My Days Off.”  Again, it’s another infectious fuzz-toned, number which wouldn’t have sounded out of place on “Challengers.”  It showcases all of this album’s great hallmarks and ends the album on a positive note.  “Get Guilty” is a nearly flawless example of high quality singer-songwriter driven rock.  If you aren’t captivated by this album, you should check your vital signs.  Newman has somehow captured something very appealing and universal. I’m going to be listening to this record all year!