Not to get all “Gen X is cool” on you, but do you remember when cereal boxes used to include phonograph records in or on the box? Seriously, this was a thing. You could get a flexi-disc record in a box of Count Chocula that featured cereal mascots at the disco or even score a Jackson 5 record from a box of Alpha-Bits.
I don’t know if Oliver Ackermann (vocals, guitar, synths), John Fedowitz (bass, vocals, synths), and Sandra Fedowitz (drums, vocals, synths) were listening to a flexi-disc copy of Bobby Sherman songs found in a box of Honey-Comb when they got the idea for their latest album, Synthesizer, but it reminded me of these flexi-discs because the packaging is a musical instrument.
Yes, you can buy a vinyl copy of the record with a cover that includes dials, wires, and other bits of gear that can be used (with soldering tools and other simple devices) to turn the album cover in to a synthesizer. No joke.
When I heard they’d done this, I first thought, “That is the coolest idea I’ve heard all year,” and then thought, “Yeah, this is perfect for them.”
It’s perfect because APTBS are always pushing the envelope and finding new ways to immerse you in sound. Beyond the wild feat of having an album cover that doubles as a musical instrument, Synthesizer is also a really good record that blasts you into an altered state.
Opening track “Disgust,” for example, blares at you right out of the gate, and Ackermann has said that it’s a half-joke “to turn people off from listening to the record.” Only the daring will venture on after the opening salvo. Only the daring will be rewarded with this track about the pleasure and pitfalls of lust, let alone the rest of the album. The guitars on “Don’t Be Sorry” are like stabs in a giallo film.
The synth bass of “Fear of Transformation” will get the industrial fans to pay attention as Ackermann sings about overcoming fear as it sometimes overwhelms us through the simplest things. Mrs. Fedowitz’s live drums mix well with electronic thumps, creating a near-panic – which is what the trio wanted us to feel all along. The haunting “Join the Crowd” is like a slow slide into a shadowy world that always seems to be on the edge of your vision as Ackermann wonders when people stopped caring about each other (“And is it me? Am I the only one here who even cares? Now I know why. You never had a choice or care.”).
“Bad Idea” has Mr. Fedowitz (whose “bad idea” for something to work on that day in the studio became the sone) considering a reconnection, even though it might cause him to end up flat on his face in the street. Ackermann’s guitar sounds like an angry beetle skittering around in a tin can at one point and like a miter saw in others, while Mr. Fedowitz’s bass line grumbles like a paranoid android.
Romance is a not-so-hidden theme on Synthesizer, and it’s great to hear Ackermann and the Fedowitzs embracing it. “You Got Me” is upbeat and reminds me of some early Cure tracks in that it mixes gothic tones so well with lyrics like “In a world where the universe is crashing down and there’s no hope, I feel ok. You question life, but there’s one thing you’ll never have to ask me. You got me.”
“It’s Too Much” is a fascinating mixed of warped sounds and more lyrics about being overcome with good emotions you haven’t felt in a long while (“I go out, but didn’t know you’d be there, and all this time I thought I was fine, but now I’m high.”). Mr. Fedowitz gives Peter Hook a run for his money on “Plastic Furniture.” I mean, come on, his bass riff on this is insane.
“Have You Ever Been in Love?” is a wild one, with Mrs. Fedowitz crushing her drum kit and adding spooky yet lovely backing vocals and cries throughout it – helping Ackermann express his anguish over a breakup (“Knife in heart. I want to die, seeing you pass me by.”). The closing track, “Comfort Never Comes,” might end up being a new synth-psych classic as it builds with gorgeous notes, Wall of Voodoo-like guitar chords, A Flock of Seagulls-like synth flourishes, and hypnotic rhythms. Ackermann acknowledges his faults in a relationship that’s beyond repair and that he wishes he could amend things (“You and I are in pieces. You could lift me like a stone…You and I are in pieces. I could lift you like a rose.”).
I can’t recommend this album enough to you. I’m sure it’s an absolute sonic wall coming at you on vinyl, but I encourage you to give it a deep headphone / earbud listen. Like any synthesizer played well, it changes the feel of everything around you and within you.
Keep your mind open.
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[Thanks to Patrick at Pitch Perfect PR.]
