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David Lynch - Crazy Clown Time Album Cover
Author's Rating
Vocals 7
Musicianship 7.5
Lyrics 7
Production 8.5
Creativity 7.75
Lasting Value 9
Reviewer Tilt 8.5
Final Verdict: 79%
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David Lynch - Crazy Clown Time

Reviewed by: Nathan Tompkins (03/14/12)
David Lynch - Crazy Clown Time
Record Label: Sunday Best
Release Date: November 7, 2011

[Unlike many comrades of whom we have seen attempt the brave step of expressive change and fall catastrophically hard into the abyss between, Lynch has in fact surpassed any prior misconceptions and proved with even greater conviction that he really is the artistic natural we suspected after all.]

Past accounts of pseudo-reinvention amongst famed celebrity and media icons has always given light to a shady and often unforgiving process. Eddie Murphy, Will Shatner, the Hoff, and most recently (also most respectfully) Hugh Laurie have all made the attempt, few of which succeeded however. I mean just how would we have coped if J-Lo hadn’t had made the ugly transition from auto-tune banality to pointless high-budget Hollywood bonanza for starters. Or if Paris Hilton had opted to stay camping out in Daddy’s credit card instead of making a brash attempt to recreate an album’s worth of Britney-inspired p[l]op tragedies. Oh no, wait...

Latest to join the clan, although in a somewhat alternate light, is cult-veteran film producer David Lynch, who proves that his cutting-edge antics and absurdities are just as intense and as captivating when transposed from the movie reels to the audio tapes.

It’s obvious that no intention has been exercised in order to recreate similar themes and images founded in Lynch’s pictures on ‘Crazy Clown Time’, but no single individual has the inhuman ability to distinguish their core personality from any artist endeavours, whether it film, music, or other expression. Many familiar plots (as well as hairpins) make comfort in Lynch’s first solo effort. We are force-fed notions of female intimacy overseen by a somewhat perverse narrator in the records title track (bearing close contact to the hostile framework of 2001’s ‘Mulholland Drive’) and come across a nervy agoraphobic Henry Spencer-type in the agitated ‘Football Games’, much of which is amplified by the shaky blues-ridden guitar crunches and the sloth-like hollow slurs of Lynch’s vocal. Mild resemblances of Dorothy’s emancipation (‘Blue Velvet’) appear in ‘She Rise Up’, a lovelorn number that whilst refusing to deviate from the troublesome environment of other songs, gives evidence of a rare but certain sentiment in Lynch’s delivery.

The tendency to get intimate arises once again in another tale of loss and discouragement, aka ‘Stone’s Gone Up’: “The Wilderness stretches out forever. You and me, could we be together?” Lynch suggests with lustrous naivety to a longing companion before - as we should by now suspect - his rational understanding of fictional limitations eventually take effect: “But then it went all dark and I knew it couldn’t be”. David is keen to distract first-time listeners from the more poetical (and possibly personal) elements of his writing processes as he employs quick and crafty edits to disguise any emotional conflict, often subduing any insight amidst problematic vocal murmurs and swollen pinches of reverb and vibrato.

But it would be rude to imply that David is encountering these infrequent emotions just to please those looking for something more accessible from ‘Crazy Clown Time’. Instead it should be understood that he is merely trying to represent reality through his own eyes. In an interview regarding his life philosophies Lynch remarked that when younger he had “discovered that if one looks a little closer at this beautiful world, there are always red ants underneath”. He accepts modestly that not everything is as perfect or as pleasant as our mysticisms would both hope and intend it to be, because the reality is usually much bigger and nastier than that. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t live without negativity some of the time, hey David?

Recommended If You LikePortishead, Saint Etienne, Can, Faust, Massive Attack

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