When I retire from, well, whatever the hell it is I am going to do with my life, I hope that I am remembered for more than one accomplishment. Let’s say I quit my bookstore job tomorrow: will I be transcendent enough to be known as a brilliant stacker of books and a guy who managed situations well? No idea. Probably not. When I slide outta my skin and writhe toward that big 10Listens in the sky, will I be known as an all-around threat? Oh, right, Jeff. He was good at things. Multi-talented guy that Jeff. I’d like to think so. Still, it’s possible that I won’t. Not many people are capable of being multifaceted in this life.
Then, there are the Mumlers. I swear, these guys are shape-shifters. Their debut was a folk record. The beginning of Don’t Throw Me Away is a soul-blues record. The middle of the record changes to a hybrid R&B record– then they switch back-and-forth from Cab Calloway to Booker T and the MGs backing up a more stolid Otis Redding. Of course, the Mumlers aren’t nearly as good as any of those gentlemen, but they don’t have to be. They are not trying to be. Whether it is a sordid tale of buying beer on a seedy street in “St. James St.” to a lazy, tired lover in “Tangled Up With You,” the first three songs sound like live recordings. Nothing feels precise, nothing feels all that important. The vocals lull in and out like rain beating against a car window. The albums threatens to get boring.
Luckily, they don’t follow through. They pull the proverbial switch as “Coffin Factory” rollicks in to jostle the listener. The Mumlers’ define Don’t Throw Me Away precisely when Will Sprott sings the first few lines. The band has a clever banter in them– even during the love songs and soul jams– and the line “My paycheck’s not big enough/ to wipe my tears” gives a terrific idea of their hidden gems. The entire story of “Coffin Factory” is addicting. The main character considers quitting his job building coffins– the stench of death lingers over his life and he openly wonders if selling flowers might not be more lucrative (love and death rather than just “building boxes to bury humanity” not to mention a more pleasant aroma). He continues: “When I breathe my last breath/ I will not breathe it as a merchant of death/ I don’t wanna build coffins no more.” Even being multi-talented doesn’t stop us from pining for more abilities.
The fact that the peak song of the album is so early should not deter anyone.. There are still the dirty horns of “99 Years Ago” coupled with Sprott’s nursery-school rhymes about his letter to his grandmother, “Sunken City” and its simple rock riff and observational city-humor, and “Fugitive and Vagabond” being a Southern gem in the vein of a Memphis blues song. “Don’t Throw Me Away” deserves it’s own paragraph (and gets it later). There are misses sprinkled throughout the album, but they are as daring and different as any of the others and, to be honest, they grow with each listen. Every song has a place, every movement is purposeful and clean. How many bands can say that? How many bands have the strength to continually reverse fields and keep their strength?
Strength of conviction is a powerful drug for musicians– The Mumlers have it in spades. Their closer– the aforementioned title track– is a beautiful “Earth Angel”-like throwback. It’s a 1950s song reincarnated. The song personifies the group’s effort to experiment within reason– to be multi-talented without being brash enough to tell the listener. As they close by continually saying “Won’t you change your mind,” it is as if the band is trying to convince you of their own importance while telling their lovelorn story. They are defending their album without talking. Yes, the fact that certain songs need to grow and others are just out-and-out successes can be considered a weakness. Still, I’m not sure if the Mumlers know that they are bending genres or if they are worried that most discerning ears like to connect to an album’s consistency. I’m not sure that they care if they come off as a bit cold by changing gears as often as they do on this album. I hope they don’t. There are infinite soundscapes in music. Infinite. Bands so often pick their one and beat themselves and their listeners into submission. Sometimes, however, a band decides to keep us on our toes; they decide to move to the forefront instead of being a background sound.
That said, I couldn’t listen to this while reading or talking to others. I had to be specifically alone and ponder Don’t Throw Me Away’s very existence. I had to be traveling to work or to social functions and blocking out the noises of the trains. I had to stop thinking about my surroundings. The album encompassed where I was and held me at bay while it swirled and whistled and switched and dropped and sped. The Mumlers had to be aware of their presence– about that much I am confident. With their shifting shapes and their awareness of musical genres, they created an album that both befuddles and invites the listener. Whether it fails with most people, I can’t be sure. I do know that I will be revisiting them. They are a new friend reminding me that being good at more than one job is not only amazing to watch/hear, it is seemingly necessary in a world where most are content to stand idly and happily by, bored to tears. The Mumlers may just motivate me to understand them yet. Isn’t that the point of an album called Don’t Throw Me Away?