Cass McCombs’ Humor Risk, the singer-songwriter’s second album of the year, isn’t exactly risky. But musically, it gets to a brighter place than McCombs’ most recent work.
Humor Risk is aurally upbeat, but it’s not his first record to carry songs with rock tempos. PREfection, McCombs’ 2005 LP, remains his rock guitar record, even if the music better reflects a Johnny Marr thoughtfulness than a hard rock brutishness. The surprise of Humor Risk stems from its juxtaposition to McCombs’ previous records, which were relatively sedate affairs.
Wit’s End, which came out in April, is the folk singer’s saddest-sounding and sparest record to date. Its songs sound as though McCombs and his band are playing a concert for lonely souls in the middle of California’s Mojave Desert as the sun sets on a Saturday.
2009’s Catacombs may be McCombs’ masterpiece. The record is full of unrushed, stripped-down dream-pop as performed by a country band. McCombs’ lyrics speak of hearts in love and of a wisdom found with adult humility.
Both of these reflect the genius pacing of McCombs’ albums. Neither of them is hurried: Each takes its time and each remains entirely captivating throughout.
Humor Risk is not rushed or hurried at all, but the rhythms are speedier and the volume is louder.
The standout tracks, “The Same Thing” and “Robin Egg Blue,” are the album’s most hypnotic. On “The Same Thing,” McCombs sings of the universality of all experiences as a confident bass line lays the foundation for a steady drumbeat and acoustic guitar strumming. Ethereal backing vocals repeat McCombs’ words and add an additional, spiritual beauty to his voice.
“Our love in sunlight, our pain at evening/ Have nothing in common, yet they’re/ Both the same thing,” McCombs sings on “The Same Thing,” alongside a kindly played harpsichord melody.
“Robin Egg Blue” is most similar to the friendly forest folk of McCombs’ great 2007 record Dropping The Writ. A beautiful, serene melody carries McCombs’ fable of acceptance. What could be considered the chorus is the protagonist of the song’s important realization: “What is done is done, what’s done is done.”
Transfixing music is a McCombs specialty, and while the songs are not as immediately alluring as those of previous efforts, Humor Risk holds up. The sway of opener “Love Thine Enemy” and the stories of “Mystery Mail” and “Meet Me At The Mannequin Gallery” contribute to another pleasurable trip into McCombs’ world.
VERDICT: Humor Risk is another excellent album by the consistently fantastic Cass McCombs.
rhiggins@umdbk.com
