As you may recall from Sunday’s Radio Dick post, Kevin and I took a trip back to lovely Athens, OH this past weekend in an attempt to relive some of the glory of our college years. Anyone who has ever attended or visited Ohio University should be aware that any number of bad things is likely to happen as the result of a Saturday night on Court Street, so if you were concerned for our well-being consider today’s post as confirmation that we are both alive and semi-well. The only real damage done over the weekend was to our livers, and those were pretty much shot anyway. Overall I would classify our little trip as educational; we were reminded of a few things we had forgotten over the years and we also learned a few new things. As far as things we were reminded of go, towards the top of the list would be why we don’t drink Jaeger anymore and how delicious a Souvlaki’s gyro tastes at two in the morning after eight solid hours of binge drinking. The most glaring piece of new knowledge that we picked up was that, at the age of 30, we are way too old to drink like we did in college anymore. Actually, we probably knew that going in, we just didn’t want to admit it.
Now that both of us are safely back in the comfort of our respective homes (well, almost, since I am actually typing this on my flight back to Chicago), it’s back to the grind of listening to and reviewing records. If you can really call that a “grind.” On tap for today is a record that I had the chance to get acquainted with on my flight into Ohio on Friday night. I had been meaning to listen to the new record from multi-instruentalist and do-it-yourself whiz kid Michael Quinn for a while now, and the few hours I spent on the airplane was just the opportunity I needed to finally give it some attention. Quinn’s latest musical project is being released under the alias Corridor, and the album, out May 26th on Manimal Vinyl, is called Corridor/mdcccclxxxi. I’m not sure if there is a story behind that or not, but what I do know is that it’s a pain in the ass to type, so I will probably avoid doing that from this point on. Strange title aside, Quinn has put forth a dazzling debut effort. Making that accomplishment even more amazing is the fact that the young musician, still in his early twenties, is entirely self-taught, having never received any formal training.
In a time where one-man-bands seem to be sprouting up everywhere, Quinn has managed to set himself apart from the masses with this record. While most artists creating music in this manner are using their laptops and synthesizers almost exclusively, sometimes throwing in some guitar, Quinn provides truly masterful guitar work in addition to his ample chops ob both cello and drums. All of these skills are on display throughout his debut under the Corridor alias, which packs early a full hour of music into just eight thunderous tracks. On an album like this, where each track is a winding journey that evokes wide ranges of emotion, going through track by track and describing each one would be an exercise in futility and almost defeat the purpose of the work as a whole. This is the kind of album that you let play from start to finish without paying much mind to the track titles. Throughout the record there are moments of beauty, sadness, intensity, ferocity, and eeriness, sometimes all occurring within the same track.
That said, there are standout moments on the record that do merit being singled out. For example the slow build and frenetic crescendo of the opening track, “Demeter,” flowing into a hypnotizing repetition of lyrics and rhythm. Also of note is the bone-chilling cello work throughout “Redux Doze,” which is a slow, haunting excursion into darkness. The intricacy and speed of the guitar work on “Undo” is stunning, as is the frenetic and pulsing percussion of “T. and H.” Perhaps the best moment, or at least my personal favorite, is the sprawling eeriness of the track “Books I Have Never Read,” which literally sends a chill down my spine. Really, any way you look at this album it is clear that talent is absolutely oozing from Quinn’s veins. This debut collection of eight tracks draws influence from everything from lo-fi to hardcore to noise-pop to goth to post-punk to arena rock to ambient electronica. That is a lot to wrap your head around I know, but it manages to do so without ever sounding unfocused or forced. I am expecting (and hoping for) great things from Michael Quinn, and if this album is any indication I have no doubt he will achieve them.
