new Aimee Mann and a fond farewell to the University Leader

With old-fashioned boxers in epic battle gracing the cover, Aimee Mann?s The Forgotten Arm breaks her three-year studio silence.

On the track ?Going Through the Motions,? Mann masterfully melds complex, but dark, chords with poignant lyrics on feeling trapped and forgotten. Upbeat, but not more narrative than sad, the song is so multi-layered that it makes you giddy.

?Video? starts with gentle, rainstorm-like percussion expanding into acoustic guitar shimmery heaven. It just opens up, like a giant, gaping hole in the darkest wall of clouds. ?Like a big balloon with nothing for ballast,? she sadly compares the pain she caused others.

The very next track, ?Little Bombs,? is lyrically remarkable. ?Life just kind of empties out / less a deluge than a drought / less a giant mushroom cloud / than an unexploded shell / inside a cell / of the Lennox Hotel.?

The songs just seem to mean more to Mann. While previous albums were good enough, they never came close to setting such heartbreakingly vivid mood like on the Arm. It reminds me of fading sunlight at a state fair, that unsure feeling as darkness settles in.

The album closer ?Beautiful? is a surprisingly hopeful ending. ?It?s scary when it?s beautiful,? sings Mann, as her voice soars into the chorus. Who couldn?t agree with that?

Old fans will still find what they want. Classic Mann is interspersed between the newer materials, but you get a feeling that if the new and old faced off in a ring, the new might score a knockout in under 5 seconds.

With The Forgotten Arm, Mann has blasted open the usually gimmicky concept album category with one of the best albums this year, an unlikely story of a boxer named John and his love interest Caroline.

Aimee Mann – Beautiful (5.3MB MP3)
www.aimeemann.com

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This was my very last published review for the University Leader. I spent 3 years there, joining my sophomore year as a photographer. When I look back at my freshman year of college, I realize that I really would have been better off joining sooner. I moved up the ranks, becoming a principle photographer and eventual photo editor. I was also the online editor for 2 years, staying well past 2am most nights to begin what my other staffers had just finished. I even tried my hand at writing, becoming pretty regular with commentary, reviews and even the occasional hard news story.

Last night, as I passed on my photo editing and online duties to new people, I realized how emotionally attached I’ve become to that paper. It literally hurts to let it go. It’ll feel weird, the freedom from working 60+ hours a week. But I’ll miss the staff the most. Thank you.

May 6, 2005

Posted in cogitations.