August 26, 1999
Lo-fi Casio rock doesn't necessarily sound appealing, except in an ironic hipster sense. But what makes Magnetic Fields such a compelling band is the frisson that the misanthropic Stephin Merritt (who is Magnetic Fields in the way that Jeff Magnum is Neutral Milk Hotel) sets up between his fantastic pop sensibility, his deadpan, dour delivery and his cryptic, often bitter songwriting.
Cool, sighing synths, the odd horn and shuffling drum machines dominate what may be Magnetic Fields' most accessible release - and that's saying a lot for a band this relentlessly catchy. Holiday finds the openly gay Merritt in an uncharacteristically romantic mood - the bubbly, homoerotic "Desert Island" is an escapist fantasy, and he attributes "Strange Powers" to his lover with strange, witty lyrical twists like "On the Ferris wheel/looking out on Coney Island/under more stars than/there are prostitutes in Thailand/Our lips blue from cotton candy/when we kiss it feels like a flying saucer landing". Super sappy, but with a melodic hook like that, who's complaining? Sometimes a little saccharine is just what you need to take the edge off some bitter French Roast.
Still, his cynicism comes through in "All You Ever Do Is Walk Away" and "Take Ecstacy With Me", when he notes that "We got beat up just for holding hands." Lyrical content aside, Merritt's arrangements are instantly memorable and inventive - no one has been this creative with cheap electronic equipment since E.T. phoned his intergalactic home with a Speak n' Say. The surprisingly complex layers of synths were described by my brother as "sort of like Enya, if you could ever imagine Enya being good." I couldn't, so had to pick this up. I'm quite glad I did.
- Jared O'Connor
Casio Pop