John Rifle - Fracas Nurture
(Rabbit Surgeon)
Simon and Garfunkel's 1966 "Seven O'Clock News/Silent Night" was an early (though probably legal) example, Negativland made it what it is, and the hullabaloo surrounding the reissue of John Oswald's Plunderphonics proved that, oddly enough, it can still ruffle feathers with more than a few music makers and labels. Pirated sound, one of the easiest ways to send your music into the illustrious realm of the postmodern, has served a number of purposes over the years. John Rifle, mysterious purveyor of these stolen sounds, is the offspring of one man, Kevin Flansburg, supplemented by a troupe of nearly twenty people, is a rabbit in a suit who makes music, and his/her/its/their debut, Fracas Nurture, takes a nibble at mass murder, the press, drug addiction, and many other topics that, of course, focus on Rifle's favorite subject, John Rifle.
Set to a soundtrack of piano and auxiliary instrumentation, Fracas Nurture makes use of musical samples, newscasts, documentaries, and fictional films to bolster an album that's equal parts social commentary and self-reflexive hype. The repetitive piano phrases that propel John Rifle's music are surprisingly the albums strongest point. Shades of Michael Nyman, Danny Elfman, and Ned Rifle (Hal Hartley liked the disc enough to send a congratulatory email that's exhibited on the John Rifle web site) are sometimes present in the stark, simple music that underlies, and, ultimately, upstages the samples and faux-documentary sound bytes that comprise Fracas Nurture's more obvious component. The samples, some obvious and others obscure, offer the signifiers which direct the path of the concept album which, like the VH1: Behind the Music samples it employs, tells the tale of the rise and fall of a music superstar: John Rifle. Rifle's debut single, "Billboard," garnered praise and scorn as it sampled newscasts of the Littleton, CO shootings quite obviously. He's propelled from strict reclusiveness into fame and Rifle becomes an international superstar, gets addicted to drugs, overdoses, and fakes his own death. He then retires from music and quickly dies, this time for real. Throughout Rifle's tale, quotes about other musicians and celebrities (Milli Vanilli, Kurt Cobain, and Tupac Shakur, for example) are edited to appear as if they're discussing Rifle. These are mixed with constructed snippets of fake newscasts and interviews used by Flansburg as a less successful attempt to complete the illusion. Often, these fake segments, obviously more obnoxious and contrived than the pirated samples, lend little to the album as a whole, and they belie the work that must have gone into the construction of the rest of Fracas Nurture's story-telling.
Flansburg's attention to detail and ingenuity are impressive, though "Billboard," the song masquerading as Rifle's hit single, isn't much more than intentionally annoying posturing that, aside from the out-of-place Littleton sample, does little to explain why John Rifle became a sensation.
John Rifle's done something different here, and that's to be appreciated, for sure. His piano and organ background sounds are well composed and add a great deal to what would be a much emptier canvas without them. Even with this music as a lifesaver, too many listens past the first find the album lacking in real substance. Much like a novel that's gripping in plot only, Fracas Nurture is most enjoyable in the initial curiosity of not knowing what Flansburg will do next. It's not that Rifle's story is that interesting, it's that it's interesting to hear how Flansburg portrays it, and that's not a facet of the album that's too interesting three weeks after purchase. Still, John Rifle's got something here that reaches for something more impressive: new ground. And, every so often, Fracas Nurture rises above the gimmickry and finds it.
|
