Albums by this artist

Insignificance (2001)

Jim O'Rourke

Insignificance


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Jim O'Rourke
Insignificance
Drag City, 2001
RiYL: Jim O’Rourke, High Llamas, Burt Bacharach, Beach Boys
Insignificance, whose inside cover features an animation of a naked bald man wearing lipstick and taking it from behind by a wide-eyed pink octopus, is the latest unfathomably sarcastic work in Jim O'Rourke's outstanding discography.

If you buy the album based on this, which is entirely acceptable, let me heed a warning so that you don't waste time popping the disc out after the first ten seconds to verify that it is still Jim O'Rourke. The album starts with a rock-and-roll blast off: drums, electric guitar hook, the whole bit.

What, you may ask, has happened to the fellow? Well, it appears he's decided to experiment a bit in the world of pop. Believe it or not, the guy who was once a half of the structurally devious Gastr Del Sol is writing pop tunes, and doing it quite successfully, with twang, even. Maybe this was foreseeable. After all, his amazing 1999 release Eureka, with its playful exploration of chamber pop and equally, ahem, intriguing artwork, could be considered a more serious big brother to this youthful yet calculated foot tapper.

One of the great things about O'Rourke is the way he confidently grabs hold of the critical community's proverbial balls and doesn't let go. That is, if you interpret the following lyric from "All Downhill From Here" as a snide comment on critics who evaluate his lyrics as if they are without a hint of irony: "Don't believe a word I say / Not that you would anyway...You feel better if you call me a misanthrope / Or whatever floats your boat / But as for me I'd rather sink my own." Ironically, the whole album feels like it's a serious attempt at sarcasm.

Insignificance's length of less than 40 minutes perhaps indicates that O'Rourke is not as serious about producing a pop opus as he is interested in getting a kick out of screwing around with pop song writing. I suppose if that's the case, it's just another reminder of the delightful stranglehold he's got on the consumers. Indeed, much like that ice cream cone that's just a couple of ounces too short on the goodies, an album this sweet and delicate will always make you wish there were a little more to consume. Of course by now it could only make sense that the title's suggestion is sarcastic, and Insignificance gives ample reason to pay closer attention.

JAKE MILHANS |