Magnetic Fields

If you appreciate someone who revels in rhyming libertarian with Herbert von Karajan, look no further than Stephin Merritt. Merritt has recorded under several aliases -- but in the end, these "groups" come down to one deep-throated, black-humored singer/ songwriter/multi-instrumentalist.

The first two Magnetic Fields albums, now on one CD, showcase sexually ambiguous lyrics, loopy arrangements, and the disaffected voice of Susan An-way. But they suffer from an air of inconsequentiality. Merritt took over vocals on The House of Tomorrow, and his Eeyore-like baritone added just the right gravitas to his quietly outrageous wordplay. The next three Fields discs mine the same cheesy-Casiodrone-meets-suicidal-comic vein. Holiday scores with the infectious "Strange Powers"; Charm of the Highway Strip riffs on American folk and country, occasionally revealing more smugness than becomes Merritt; Get Lost has moments of genius, but the Merritt method was turning formulaic.

Enter the alter egos. The 6ths are Merritt's very own tribute band, with each song on their two albums handled by a different guest vocalist, ranging from Sebadoh's Lou Barlow (on Wasps' Nests) to folk legend Odetta (on Hyacinths and Thistles). The results are surprisingly consistent; it's like listening to the original cast album of a particularly warped Broadway show. Merritt and drummer/manager Claudia Gonson trade off crooning duties for Future Bible Heroes, whose album and EP boast a cool, grimly sardonic charm. The Gothic Archies' name is, sadly, the most amusing thing about them.

These side projects must have stoked Merritt's muse, for when the Magnetic Fields reappeared, it was with 69 Love Songs, which is exactly as advertised: 69 songs covering every aspect of love, from the hilarious to the heartrending, spread over three CDs (available in a box or as separate discs). The inclusion of a handful of throwaways keeps the set from absolute classic status, but it's an awesome achievement all the same, and Merritt's best work. By comparison, the soundtrack to Eban & Charley -- Merritt's first release under his own name -- is only okay, though a couple of smart numbers elevate it above the average disc. 69 Love Songs' real followup, i, is centered on a similar attention-getting gimmick; each one of its 14 song titles begins with the letter i. Does this kind of thing really set a healthy precedent for Merritt's career? Regardless, the pleasures here are still great, though (obviously) not as many as on the previous Magnetic Fields blockbuster -- it's got one of the best opening lines of a song on an album full of them: "So you quote love unquote me" ("I Don't Believe You"). (MAC RANDALL)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide