I Like The Beets... I think?

This Beets record is a strange one. Initially I thought it was garbage. Just a loada muffled, slovenly, unremarkable mumbling songs with nothing much going for them at all. But somehow it just keeps coming back at you, and sticking. Clearly an investigation is called for;

I think if you’re able to temporarily abandon all expectation that pop/rock music should be big and brash and lively, The Beets have stumbled across a very pleasant way of making music, and humbly presented it to us like a big, dopey dog returning a stick. There’s five Beets, but they don’t make much of a noise between them – just some simple strumming on acoustic (or acoustic-sounding) guitars, a thump from a snare drum and a bunch of guys with really weedy voices all singing along. In addition, they sound like they recorded their album by setting up a single microphone at the opposite end of an empty school gymnasium in which they happened to be practicing. So vast is the distance between recording apparatus and performers here, you’re forced to listen closely just to recognise the fact that there are songs happening. But when you do, the result is kinda pleasing. In fact, if you’re feeling zonked and tired out, the whole muted distantness of it works wonderfully. I had no idea I needed music that sounded like this until I heard it, and even then I thought it was shit the first three or four times round, but need it I do.

Once you get tuned into what they’re doing, I guess The Beets maybe sound a bit like The Fugs, only not annoying. Or a bit like The Moldy Peaches, only not annoying. Not being annoying is a big part of what The Beets do, and I appreciate that. Nothing in their music is shrill, or surprising, or grating. The flattened out sound stops any of it from becoming belligerent or demanding attention.

The Beets’ songs are short and have big, simple, pleasing chords and rhyming lyrics about god only knows what, with which they all sing along like a sloppy nerd choir. That’s the key to it I think: all singing along, and asking no questions. Not singing along in an ostentatiously enthusiastic revival tent manner though – quite the opposite. These are more like lethargic, stoned-ass work songs for weakling mid-twenties white guys who’ve just been staring at that Mac screen too damn long and need to get some sunshine.

The Beets sound like they don’t write songs, they just get together and start doing them – a cardigan-wearing chain-gang, singing their sorrows on the way to the photocopier. I know this sounds like just about the worst music ever, but bear with me here. I don’t understand it either. Once you get used to the fact that it sounds like it was recorded through a wall, by accident, I defy you to actively dislike this record. It really is kinda great.

NOTE: I wrote this in one sitting a couple of weeks ago, and have not subsequently listened to The Beets.

http://www.myspace.com/thebeetsbeat

John Darnielle seems rather overly keen on this video, featuring The Beets:

Labels: I like, The Beets