Albums by this artist

The Gasoline Age (1999)

East River Pipe

The Gasoline Age

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» MARK T.R. DONOHUE | STAFF WRITER

East River Pipe The Gasoline Age Merge, 1999 RiYL: Sebadoh, Smog, Felt

As home recording has become cheaper and higher-fi, one-man bands like Dump and Portastatic have become more and more common. Perhaps the most talked-about of these intrepid apartment-bound explorers is New Jersey's East River Pipe. Mixing keyboard-heavy arrangements and plaintive, folkish singing, the Pipe has released a series of critically well-received albums on Merge. The Gasoline Age is his/their fourth.

I don't personally understand the appeal of the one-man form. I've recorded by myself in the past, but always by necessity, never by choice. Solo recordings, with their reliance on overdubbing and precise, inflexible arrangements, just don't have the feel of a group performance. And nothing in the world compares to the feeling of coming together with other musicians and rising your single performances to a much larger whole -- squinting with headphones on, trying to time your guitar playing to canned bass and drums just isn't the same thing. So why would F.M. Cornog (with a name like that, I realize why he uses the pseudonym), with all the resources of a fine indie label, insist on playing everything himself?

Whatever the reason, someone should change his mind. The Gasoline Age features the same stiff drum machines and oddly off performances that have killed Bob Mould's recent solo work, and way less rocking. If Cornog's melodies and lyrics were stronger, the listless instrumental performances would be forgivable, but I calls 'em as I sees 'em, and the guy's just not that talented. Most of the songs feature one or two clever lines ("Shiny, Shiny Pimpmobile" gets my nod for best song title of 1999) repeated again and again in a bland voice that moves to straight-up irritating when Cornog attempts to emote. Repeating a song title is NOT songwriting. Nor is the 10-minute "Atlantic City" ("gonna make a million tonight / gonna make a million tonight / gonna make a million tonight / gonna make a million tonight / hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey / hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey / hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey / hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey").

The Gasoline Age is boring, lifeless, and ultimately pointless. I'm a bit unhappy with Merge, usually beyond reproach, for sticking with this guy so long. My suggestion to Cornog: hire a band, or at least a drummer. Or write more than one verse for each of your songs. Something has to carry an album past nice background keyboards. Something. Anything.

MARK T.R. DONOHUE | Mark T.R. Donohue is a prolific freelance writer whose areas of expertise include Rockies baseball, video games, genre television, English soccer, and pub rock. He lives in Colorado, where he cultivates the largest and creepiest private collection of Alyson Hannigan memorabilia in the Mountain West.