The Magnetic Fields - 'Distortion' (Nonesuch) Released 14/01/08

Writer Ken Emerson once described Magnetic Fields’ chief talisman Stephin Merritt as “cynical, sentimental and super-self-conscious”, someone that “continually questions authenticity and dares himself as well as his listeners to take his songs seriously”. In this context his band’s 8th album ‘Distortion’ begins to make sense, playing out as an initially prickly challenge to those who regard Stephin as one of the most prodigiously gifted songwriters New York has thrown up in the last two decades.

With its strict adherence to 3-minute pop songs textured with copious amounts of feedback, ‘Distortion’ is as superficially conceptual and cohesive as the more recent Fields’ albums. Were we to pick holes in this idea it’d be along the lines that these thirteen tracks largely exist despite the distortion, not because of it. Underneath the fuzz and occasionally sharp tones are songs as wistful, tender, ironic and playful as we’ve come to expect from Merritt’s gang. This is of course no bad thing, but rarely throughout ‘Distortion’ is there any hint of The Magnetic Fields moving beyond their comfort zones, using these self-defined parameters as a stern test of inspiration.

Stephin’s stated ambition prior to the album’s release to want “to sound more like Jesus And Mary Chain than the Jesus And Mary Chain” has also led to a few misconceptions. ‘Distortion’ may share the Reid brother’s ethos of pushing instruments beyond their capabilities (here even the piano and cello have been used to create feedback) but only on the opening percussive assault of ‘Three-Way’ does the record actually sound like a ‘Psychocandy’ off-cut.

‘Distortion’s standout moments are in fact the songs that, despite the attempts at surface noise, still leave exposed a polished heart of melody and emotion (much in the spirit of JAMC). ‘California Girls’ and ‘The Nun’s Litany’ marry Spector’s wall of sound to an inverted Beach Boys, while ‘Please Stop Dancing’ is classic Merritt, making the memories of heartbreak sound like a drunken waltz taken in a happy, delirious haze. ‘I’ll Dream Alone’ plays along the same lines, it’s chorus simply the title repeated with no uncertain grace. ‘Zombie Boy’ however is hilariously bad, and may be evidence of the aforementioned desire to test the listeners’ credulity.

The idea of The Magnetic Fields turning their hand to baroque-noise-pop sounds wonderful on paper, but unfortunately the execution lacks conviction and any sense of purpose. At least the songs are (nearly always) strong enough to carry the record regardless. ‘Distortion’ is a contradictory, baffling and sporadically joyous album: you suspect Stephin Merritt wouldn’t want it to be any other way.