Music Notes: Aimee Mann, Whatever

May 11th, 2007

= 5 stars

When I bought Whatever I didn’t expect much, but Aimee Mann was actually on the cusp of a brilliant reinvention from the ashes of Til Tuesday (stereotypical hit wonders) to a “serious singer-songwriter” (a stereotypical cliche). Luckily, Mann had the good fortune to team up with Jon Brion, an unusual producer also on an upswing. A former member of the cult band The Grays, Brion would go on to produce Fiona Apple and the Punch Drunk Love soundtrack.

Whatever contains melodic, Beatle-esque musical diversions – melody-over-chords based songs with cynical lyrics, given complex, layered production. Spaces between every phrase are filled with unusual instruments and hooks.

The warm experimental instrumentation can’t help but evoke the sixties on several tracks. I Should’ve Known bristles with Beatley invention, from background harmonies, chiming organ, trumpet, with pokey oboes on the bridge evoking memories of Pet Sounds. There’s a beautiful George Harrison-esque guitar solo. From there, Fifty Years After the Fair takes us to the world of the Byrds, complete with chimes.

Overall there’s a dejected, resigned break-up vibe to the lyrics. Stupid Thing is especially cutting as Mann describes to her former lover the hopes that have been dashed. “It wasn’t me that you outsmarted,” implying the one lost is the accused.

Now that I think about it, Whatever contains many moments I could live inside of: the “never mind” background vocals of Stupid Thing, the double-meaning of the ode to lost fame I’ve Had It, and the frozen-steel, knife’s edge guitar solo in the slightly spooky, stalker tune Say Anything. Some cruel lines to a know-it-all former lover appear in that song: “If you were everything you say, things would be different today… now I’ve heard everything.”

As always, there are some weak tracks, and for me they’re the ones where Mann puts on a happy face, possibly for unneeded balance. Put Me On Top is a misfired hit song, declawed and repetitive. Mr. Harris sounds strangely gloating. And I skip the pseudo-vaudeville showboating of the final track Way Back When.

But that leaves nearly eight tracks that I would lock in a time-capsule for when I’m 64. This album deserves more than just a passing “whatever.”