Pitchfork

There's a long history of talk-rock in indie, but few pursue the fusion of music and undirected spoken word with the zeal of L.A.'s Brendan Fowler. He records as Barr, and this is his second record for 5 Rue Christine. He's a performance artist, so he knows the art of the monologue. Between his two albums he's delivered many thousands of words with little regard for rhythm, meter, melody, narrative arc, or rhyme. He's rappin' at ya, amigo, letting you know what's going on in his head and commenting on his songs in real time as they unfold. "I'll talk about every inch of this thing, this record/ Every square fucking inch/ I'll fully talk this thing into the ground..." he promises at the end of the title track. The man is true to his word. He knew that line would wind up in a record review somewhere, and he was right. And while this sounds like a recipe for an unbelievably annoying record, somehow, against all odds, it's not. It's only a little annoying. And it's often kind of interesting, too.

The music here is far more realized than on the last Barr record, which helps immensely by giving Fowler's rants an emotional context. "Rant" isn't the correct word, actually, and neither is "story"; certainly not "lyrics" or "poetry." Part of what's interesting about Summary is puzzling over the nature of his words, trying to figure out not just what he's getting at, but why he bothers. Everything seems made up on the spot-- all the "likes" and "kindas" are intact. He stops to clarify, reverses himself, gets in little arguments. He tips his hat to the Pavement song that Barr sometimes sounds like ("In short form the conduit is cracked but at least it's for sale/ I'm sorry, Steve, I had to say it"), and then he moves on.

It's fun to decode, trying to figure out where Fowler is going, what sort of line he's following. Sometimes he becomes indie's answer to Bob Newhart, delivering one side of a conversation and letting the content of the exchange emerge slowly. Other times he can't stop talking about what is going on right here and now. "You make a record at nite/ Cause everyone knows that rock and roll is the language of the nite/ But this got made in the day/ It was bright: the drums are fully shaky but the bass is more tight." Behind him are simple little bits of piano, bass, drum, and guitar that provide dramatic underpinning. These instrumental flourishes are especially important when Fowler incorporates other characters into his pieces, like the messed-up person addressed in "Untitled", with whom he pleads via text exchange about not wanting him or her to die. It sounds overwrought, but his looseness keeps the melodrama in check, and the delicate piano bit is totally key to the song's appeal.

Still, as interesting as Fowler's approach on Summary can be, I'm not convinced that the record album format is the way to deliver his art. Listening to Summary sometimes feels like watching a videotape of a stage performance; his extemporaneous spew of words loses a lot when frozen in time on a CD, to be heard exactly the same way over and over. It feels like these stories should change a little each time you hear them, depending on his mood or what it looks like out the window. As is, it seems like a few times through is all anyone will ever need.