The Magnetic Fields - Quickies (2020) [Hi-Res]

Is there such a thing as being too prolific or having too much to say? Stephin Merritt, one of popular music's true eccentrics, is also one of its most copious songwriters. Over the years, in side projects like The 6ths, The Gothic Archies and Future Bible Heroes, as well as his main band, The Magnetic Fields, Merritt has spun his own wonderfully ornate and populous creative universe, one that has often expressed itself in massive multi-song, multi-volume epics. While he may never again equal the massive chunk of creativity of the exceptional 69 Love Songs (1999), Merritt did give it an equally compelling run for its money with his last outing, 50 Song Memoir (2017).

While there is no doubting the craft and intelligence behind his artful melodies and silly, absurdist sense of humor, there is an argument to be made that Merritt might focus his vision more effectively by distilling even further his folk pop sprawl. That may be some of the inspiration behind Quickies, a 28-track collection of bite-sized snatches of love, wit and wisdom. Musically, the uber brief format—all songs are well under the two and a half minute mark, with the shortest at 13 seconds—compresses his synth folk melodies into hooky flashes, all orchestrated with his trademark blend of keyboards (Moog, ARP, Omnichord, Wurlitzer) and exotic acoustic instruments (cigar box guitar, banjolele, wine box cello). Along with Merritt's deep, resounding croon, the vocals are handled by longtime Magnetic Fields vocalists Claudia Gonson and Shirley Simms. Lyrically, random thoughts become tuneful snatches with typically droll titles like "Kraftwerk in a Blackout," Let's Get Drunk Again (and Get Divorced)," and "I Wish I Had Fangs and Tail." With highlights like the New Orleans swirl "Evil Rhythm," the abject frolic "I've Got a Date with Jesus" or topical single "The Day The Politicians Died," these deadpan bursts are not only essential for fans but a prime introduction to the austere methods and approachable humor of Merritt's musical cosmos. © Robert Baird/Qobuz