Review Summary: Darnielle’s genius is to juxtapose familiar scenes of domesticity and married life with unsettling, dreamlike imagery that serves to bring a distinctly dark atmosphere to a fairly simple narrative.
When one begins to pick apart the work of songwriter John Darnielle, who for many years was the sole core member behind the Mountain Goats moniker, one inevitably becomes bound up in something resembling literary criticism more than an album review. Indeed, it is far easier to draw comparisons between Darnielle and the traditions of the great American novelist than it is to compare him with his lo-fi folk contemporaries. The action of ‘Tallahassee’ could as easily take place in Fitzgerald’s ‘Valley of Ashes’ as it could do in Hemmingway’s moral wilderness. Either way, Darnielle is a much better story teller than he is a singer or musician, and while ‘The Sunset Tree’ or 'We Shall All Be Healed' are more accessible and personal works, there remains something grimly fascinating in the surreal landscapes he paints throughout ‘Tallahassee’.
Darnielle’s genius is to juxtapose familiar scenes of domesticity and married life with unsettling, dreamlike imagery that serves to bring a distinctly dark atmosphere to a fairly simple narrative. On the surface, the record tells the story of the ‘Alpha couple’ moving into a new house and their gradual decline into alcoholism and insanity, as the building crumbles around them. As they descend further into madness, Darnielle’s imagery becomes more and more disturbing. The protagonists can’t see the contradiction between noting the tiled floor of the bathroom on one hand, and then the ‘cicadas, locusts and innumerable gibbons’ that shriek around the ruins of their home.
However, the record’s dark heart always comes wrapped in a soft blanket of morbid humour. Some lines range from the witty, such as ‘our conversations are like minefields, no one’s found a safe through one yet’, to the plain ridiculous, like ‘our love is like the border between Greece and Albania’. The track ‘No Children’ has justifiably attracted much attention for its brilliant hook ‘I hope you die, I hope we both die’ and serves as one the album’s standouts.
All of this is not to say that Darnielle’s guitar playing or singing are rendered obsolete by his narrative. On the contrary, as with all great conceptual music, the music serves to direct, rather than accompany the lyrics. Although tracks like ‘Oceanographers choice’ do employ a full band line-up, Darnielle’s work is much more effective when it retains its lo-fi charm which, when employed correctly, can build up as much tension as his evocative imagery, which it does brilliantly in the first half of the album.
While not a perfect record, ‘Tallahassee’ is still a wonderfully depressing listen with a depth often lacking in contemporary folk. While not as consistently brilliant as some of his other masterpieces, it still evokes a distinct atmosphere that will stay with you for weeks to come, much like the catchy melodies that accompany it.
