Jim O'Rourke - Insignificance
(Drag City)
Let's go over the chronology of the cover art of Jim O'Rourke's pop albums. We start with Eureka where a man is shown having his way with a small stuffed bunny; next comes Halfway to a Threeway, showing simple beauty shots of stuffed animals; and now Insignificance, showing a man with female anatomy and a hot pink negligee. The inside cover of Insignificance takes this one step further, as the same fat bald man from the Eureka cover is shown receiving anal sex from a cartoon octopus. This string of images is perhaps the most entertaining cover art of the last decade, but now, after step three in the series, there seems to be some symbolism in them as well. With Eureka, O'Rourke's first true try in the pop arena, pop music (i.e., the stuffed bunny) is seen by O'Rourke as his Monica Lewinsky, a small play thing he can have his way with and then discard. When we get to Halfway to a Threeway, pop music (now, a stuffed frog) is given a little more dignity; it's beauty is appreciated, but O'Rourke, the artist, is still the person in control, behind the camera. Now, with the new album Insignificance, pop music (the octopus, natch) is the aggressor and has taken control, and O'Rourke is nothing but a willing participant in its creation, letting his love for all pop music—over everything else—guide him to what music he will create.
The proof of this is in the music of Insignificance, as truely lowbrow guitarwork is allowed to become the central theme of several songs. The first song, "All Downhill From Here," is the most striking example of this using a raw, thumping Southern rock guitar part as the lead part, likely leading to many double takes on first listen. This audacious boogie guitar playing will likely leave many O'Rourke fans put off and confused, but the way the composition is put together is actually quite amazing. This guitar centerpiece may be crude, but it is visceral and totally unexpected, and coming out between the blasts of guitar are beautiful interludes of piano and Fahey-like guitar... It's funny that O'Rourke's music started to incorporate pop as washes of Bacharach-like orchestration coming out of the woodwork below his heady guitar ambience, but now it is the ambience coming out of the woodwork from below his common-man pop compositions.
This rock guitarwork is also used in "Therefore I Am," but this is not in the same style of Southern rock ("All Downhill..." is the only example of that) but rather the style of ridiculous 1980s mainstream rock-pop like post-Peter Gabriel Genesis. And it is marvelous! With only a couple short shards of three chord guitarlines, O'Rourke makes a driving, harsh rhythm, sounding not unlike Can or This Heat. What does he add to this punk framework but just what you expected, falsetto singing!
The use of rock guitar is so striking that it seems to dominate the album even though half of the songs do not use it at all. "Good Times" is a country/folk song made from only a quiet acoustic guitar and (2001 independent music requisite use of) pedal steel—the music is so quiet it seems inaudible when sandwiched between the album's bolder strokes. "Life Goes Off," the album closer, starts off quiet, a patchwork of pitter-patter guitar playing that swells into a rustle of sounds overtop a bellowing pedal steel, the rustling of the percussion growing louder and louder until it reaches a grating, cacophonous peak that ends the album.
On Insignificance, lyrically, O'Rourke's heart is so filled with hate that he just has to share it with the world. Every song is full of vitriol, most verbal jabs directed a lover O'Rourke has grown much too tired of (in other words, "fondness makes the heart grow absent," as O'Rourke sings on "Memory Lane"). Looking at this woman he used to adore reminds him "of looking at the sun too long and how the blind are so damn lucky," and listening to her talk reminds him of "motor's endless drone and how the deaf are so damn lucky." The album is full of ingenious quips like these, all worth memorizing for the next person you grow to hate.
The best lyrics on the album, though, are on "Get a Room," which like "Halfway to a Threeway" on his last EP, show a rather bizarre, absurd, and desperate view of sex. On "Halfway...," the object d'amour is a comatose lover (hence the title). On "Get a Room," we get the other side of the situation, where the conundrum is, as O'Rourke explains, "If I gave you one night to live, who would you choose to spend it with?" Of course, the wrong choice is made, and the lead character (and the music) loses all strength and drifts off into a coma as the intended partner is deeply sleeping (and snoring, no less), with the deed left undone.
With Gastr del Sol, in many ways O'Rourke and David Grubbs were challenging the listener on how they view a song; don't let the pop framework fool you... O'Rourke continues to do that with the music on Insignificance. By viewing pop music less as a whore to satisfy his urges and curiosity and more as a relationship under which he can let himself lose control, letting the music guide him, O'Rourke has merged elements from the entire spectrum of music—from the most elemental and raw to the most intellectual and sublime—creating something of a masterwork as it is both instantly accessible and instantly confrontational.
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