Album Review: We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves

John Maus is nearly as intriguing as an individual as this delightful little retro-pop gem and his music as a whole are. Maus frequently states in various interviews that I have viewed, that his primary goal as an artist is to take in hand what pop itself is, both as an ideal and as a sound, and in turn remove any unnecessary externalities. Being the eccentric (endearingly so) that he is, this is said in hundreds if not thousands of arcane words, that come across in the most confusing and polarizing way possible. Really, the intellectual pretentiousness of the John Maus persona serves as a fascinating contrast for his quite simple, reverb-heavy, retro-synth-pop musical output. I'm not sure how far-fetched this philosophy is, honestly. To me, this album is just an homage to 80's synth-pop with some unique elements added in, but who knows?

When I listen to this album, I either think to myself, "I certainly am glad that it is raining outside as I spin this." or, "I certainly wish that it was raining outside as I spin this". The beautiful album-artwork accompanying this is a holistically spot-on representation of the sounds within (perhaps I'll write a thought-piece on the importance of album artwork, and the mental associations that it inevitably conjures-up). The music here is very much pop from the 80's filled to the brim with Joy Division-esque vocal work from Maus, sincerely retro-sounding synth-arpeggios and chords, and simple yet crucial drum-machine elements.

Now, at first, this may seem very worn, but what makes this work so unique is the production that has been applied, not so much the make-up. The vocals seem as if they are drowning in the midst of a vast ocean of reverb; the synths seem to be recorded under water, and the drum-machine sounds like some sort of delightful thing that has been unearthed from the more hidden realms of your secretly cool grandmother's closet. This almost seems like some sort of pop album you would find hidden away in some neglected shelf of a record-store, listened to by not many more people when it was released than now (but, really, in the most endearing way possible).

In the end, this is really one of the best rainy night-drive type albums I've heard. Also, below is a link to one of the referenced interviews in which Maus' bizarre persona is on display. Also, bits of a Maus live performance are included (he just goes up there and sings along to tracks of his material, while acting a bit insane and stuff).

Click this, now.

C.W.