John Vanderslice’s Romanian Names became my Sunday morning companion early after its release and it still sits on standby for the more contemplative and introspective times.  We’ve become close friends, and its addition to our “Best Albums of 2009” list was locked in months ago.  Released in May, Romanian Names is the perfect companion piece to 2004′s Cellar Door, and its 12 tracks wind through minimalist ouevres, grand sweeping narratives, and subtly ear-drenching arrangements.  There is no filler on the album, and as the summer months scorched into the dog days, Vanderslice’s effort simply blossomed with each listen, warming my heart while equally perplexing me with lyrical ambiguity.  Quite simply, Vanderslice created another stellar record in 2009, each moving part intricately drawn out and defined.  Tales of forlorn lovers, metaphorical allusions to adultery, paradoxical word play and brutal sincerity are all omni-present throughout the album.  In my review of the record on its release date, I posted commentary about how immediately mature Vanderslice’s art is, steering clear of extra pretense and glitz.  This is a gorgeous analog record of complex beauty, and unfortunately found itself largely underrated.

Vanderslice is a jack-of-all trades, and all twelve songs point to his meticulous attention to detail.  He records in analog and this is apparent from the jump, with wood blocks, xylophones, and tinny snare drum work leaping from speakers without overdriven production.  There’s an overall “first-take” quality that’s refreshing throughout the album, but it’s important to point out that the record never sounds sloppy.  Simply put, Vanderslice is an artist at the top of his game and the lack of filler makes this noteworthy.  “Forest Knolls” is where the album peaks sonically, with brooding and jarring metaphorically driven lyrics of hunting.  Cacophonous flourishes disorient and jolt as Vanderslice’s foreboding tone ripples throughout.

Regret and loss are running motifs in the album, but are juxtaposed with music that, at times, presents itself poppy and this off-kilter mood is a boon to the album.  “Too Much Time” and “C&O Canal” present a speaker miffed at the isolating nature of loss, but pointed toward resolution.  Sometimes resolution is achieved through edgy nonchalance and if the speaker throughout this album is resolved, it’s certainly coated with a heavy layer of indignation.  Many tracks move similarly, and although there’s no distinct narrative, all tracks can be glued together thematically.  I suppose that’s what’s so endearing about this effort.  As a literature teacher, I always allude to the lack of respect excellent lyrical efforts receive in this industry.  In a world where Vampire Weekend can babble inane lyrical content and stock record store shelves indefinitely, perhaps it’s time to take a step back and consider what’s truly valuable.  What sets Romanian Names apart, is that it succeeds in both arenas.  The poetic strength satiates from track one to twelve.  Vanderslice also swings for the fences musically, but does so with subtle grace; there is certainly a swagger present in the arrangements, but it’s underscored by complete accessibility and sincerity.

Throughout 2009, this record has been my mainstay repeatedly.  It soothes while it intrigues and softens while it leaves the door open for emotional release.  I’m not certain anything else I’ve listened to holds such lofty maturity of sound and language.  Pick this one up if it passed you by this year; join me for a cup of coffee and “Fetal Horses.”

John Vanderslice Official Site

John Vanderslice – Fetal Horses

John Vanderslice – Too Much Time (Demo)

Buy Romanian Names at Insound Now!