Super XX Man is the alias of writer, musician, singer and producer Scott Garred. On his latest release, the twelfth Super XX Man album since ’95, he eschews his more typical reflections on life, family and the like for more focused observations. Vol. XXII: There’ll Be Diamonds is about Garred’s experiences with the people in an Oregon State Hospital, the “oldest psychiatric institution in his home state,” as the promotional notes say. Avoiding cheap theatrics and exploitation, Garred paints a solemn and haunting atmosphere; musically spry but without phoned-in wink nods and consolation.
If latter-era Elvis Costello had tried to make a Mountain Goats record, Diamonds might have been born from those sessions. Garred doesn’t have John Darnielle’s skewed outlook or Costello’s passion for a good pop song, but Diamonds captures the fundamentally uncomplicated and quietly effective qualities that mark the best of their work. But Garred is not alone in his task; this is a more band-oriented effort than double X’s past releases. Joining him is his wife, Michelle, as well as Kelly Dachtler, Josh Woods, Bob Ham and Ali Wesley, filling the various duties of guitar, bass, drums, back-up vocals, tambourines, accordion, and so on.
We begin with “Medication,” which summarizes a troubled fellow in pain who’s taken “too many medications, I don’t know, I don't know.” It’s a spare but quaintly catchy little gem with an unfussy rhythm and descending three note twinkles—sort of early Spoon without the need for sunglasses. “Psychotic Break” is another open-aired track, again driven by a subdued acoustic cadence, but adds understated arcing electric guitar washes; things only change up during the denouement. “Crazy People” begins to open the album up with a more dynamic rhythm and a stuttering electric guitar in the background, nervously prompting the song to evolve. And then “You Say” primes the newly vivacious melodies and the title track unleashes the literate emotion.
The second half is also cluttered with small winners. “Little Leaf” sounds like Morrissey doing a 70s folk pastiche—I can even imagine the Smiths sporting long hippie hair and twirling around in a forest with tambourines. “Downtown Chapel” features a lingering piano melody and the poignant lyrics: “New new shoes to wear/New new thoughts to share/New new songs to sing aloud inside my head/I didn’t have anything/I didn’t have anything/I didn’t have anything going on up there.” “What Lies Beneath” transforms a children rhyme like, “Rubber ducky, you’re the one/You make bath time lots of fun/You don’t know where the soul will go/It goes down, down, down the drain you found,” into something heartbreakingly poetic. “It’s Now” becomes the album’s musical climactic centerpiece. The first half is more of the troubadour, the second a low-key rave-up, repeating “It’s now” again and again. And album closer, “Cautious Like a Panther,” one of the most tunefully nimble songs on the album, is a wryly misleading epilogue.
Ironically, being so musically cozy makes Diamonds thornier than necessary. Garred claims that this is his “most sonically ambitious album to date,” but he remains perhaps too conservative in his frequently subtle arrangements. Diamonds would have been spoiled if he layered on all the tricks he could muster, but a lack of tempo variety makes a few segments somewhat blander than needed. “SA Problem” is lyrically sound but musically flat. It’s a B-Side promoted to the tricky spot in the album: distanced from the central core but too soon for the home stretch. And the middle of the album sags a bit; “Big Balloon” and “House/Home” are fine if unspectacular tracks that spring right by, leaving no lasting memories.
Lo-fi usually refers to alternative rock that swims in reverb, but it also applies to Super XX Man’s acoustic folk sound. Hooks are rarely apparent and almost every song on here needs two or three listens to grow on you, but aside from a couple of mediocre moments, the impact is rather immediate. The album is moody without being overbearing; it’s certainly a prime example of the less is more treatise. Small, spare and intimate, this should be one of the quietest winners of the year.
