You know what, before I become fully invested in this review of Brett Netson‘s Simple Work for the Dead, I have to address the 17-minute “song”. There’s a point in this wordless dirge called “Lupus” (somewhere around minute 11 or 12, who the fuck knows) where all the musical ideas are tapped, and the track becomes a repetitive noisy mess of droning guitar and cymbals, which goes on FOR ANOTHER FIVE MINUTES. There are wars shorter than this song. Jerry Garcia (God rest his soul) would think this song too long. Seventeen minutes? There are simply not enough drugs.
I expected some surprising twists and turns from Netson, a member of the fine band Built to Spill as well as leader of Caustic Resin, but Simple Work for the Dead is a long road to frustration.
Instrumental songs with salient pieces become needless shambles, while others (“Death of Gus”) never get going. On the tracks Netson does sing, it comes with half-hearted attempts, as if his voice was meant to be a mere instrument among the varied cacophony surrounding him. For some artists (Jonsi) this works, but not here.
There was cause for enthusiasm at the album’s outset, as “Preaching to the Choir” splashes out the gate with big drums and a bellowing chorus. A spoken-word recording near the song’s end gives it an added charge, an element of intrigue sorely missing from following tracks.
It’s tricky, because the first 30 seconds of most of these songs lure you in until you realize three minutes later you’re hearing the same thing over and over. “Someone Else” is the only true “song” of Netson’s on the album in terms of construction (so is “Masters of War”, but it’s a Bob Dylan cover), but it too becomes typical and rote. “National Socialist Shareholders” and “Piss Anywhere” sound like instrumental demos done during an afternoon messing around with GarageBand loops — weak and unfinished.
Simple Work for the Dead is not complicated, which is fine (we’re the Ramones ever complicated?), but the album is not catchy or interesting either. There are spots of inspiration, but they’re engulfed in a sea of redundancy, and there’s no reason to listen to it more than once.
