You may recall the absurd joke a journalist for The Australian played on… who? … a few years ago by sending extracts from Patrick White books to publishers who (a) did not recognise them as White and (b) rejected the work in various ways. What this was supposed to prove is anyone’s guess – like a lot of literary hoaxes, there was some kind of underlying assumption that no-one actually holds if they think about it for more than a minute.
Nonetheless as per the Systematics, I have to wonder about context. Is Todd Rundgren helped or hampered by his legacy? Economically, it undoubtedly helps: ‘Hi my name’s Todd I’m 61 this is my first album, I’m wearing leather shorts on the cover, I play all the instruments myself and…’ hmm, well, it might work (it’s more likely to work in 2009 than any other time, I suspect) but you know really it wouldn’t. On the other hand, if you were wanderin’ into JB one afternoon, having never heard any Todd Rundgren and hoping to sample some (and being part of that very rare breed of people, once quite common, who (i) wants to expand musical horizons (ii) does so alone (iii) does so by purchasing things on spec rather than downloading or looking at stuff on YouTube, etc, would you buy the guy’s latest record or one of his alleged classics? You’d be a very strange person if you bought the new album. (Perhaps songs from this record are getting airplay somewhere and people are actually seeking it out on that basis, but it doesn’t seem likely). And this suggests to me that really Todd – having alienated most of his core audience more than most great artists who rose to prominence in the 70s – is being heard only by a very select few, who can put his work in context, and who are willing to follow him up hill and down dale on his many bizarre forays possibly just because they like the idea of An Eccentric Genius.
What I miss about old Todd that doesn’t show up too much on New Todd records – unless you count bizarre notions like the cover of Liars or the concept of the New Cars – is the humour that used to be evident in old Todd. I’m thinking of the spoken discussion, with illustrations, of recording technology on Something/Anything, or ‘An Elpee’s Worth of Toons’, etc. It was a kind of intelligent goofiness that stopped Todd from coming across like a poncing progger, or rather, allowed him to be a poncing progger whenever he wanted to be because he could be anything: a wizard, a true star and/or your unemployed elder brother with a good record collection in the granny flat.
OK for all that, and despite the fact that the least palatable tracks come first, Arena is on balance a great album. Presumably coming from Rundgren’s response to the 2007 tours by the New Cars (did they fill arenas? Their website has them playing a lot of State Fairs) The humour has arguably given way instead to a fine line in pastiche – ‘Strike’, f’rinstance, is AC/DC and ‘Mountaintop’ is glam rock (very good glam rock, actually). I’m not sure what ‘Manup’ is – not familiar enough with the genre – but it’s not that pleasant, stylistically. Elsewhere, Rundgren is furious and vibrant, though more into parody/exercises than building in any sensitive way on his considerable legacy. The exceptions come midway through, and they are startling and fine: ‘Courage’ would have fitted nicely into Hermit of Mink Hollow, and you know that’s got to be good. ‘Weakness’ is perhaps Todd-era Todd, and that’s pretty strong stuff; could be the best song here, could even be one of Todd’s best overall. It’s a soulful rock ballad which has a beautifully strident and crooked guitar figure woven throughout, and enough musical ideas for three songs (at least). (And whatever the strengths of ‘Strike’, it’s a shame it interposes straight afterwards: you feel like you’ve met someone really great at a party and then the bass player in your wife’s band starts yelling in your other ear about bullshit).
On balance then a strange melange but screw it – it IS Todd. And it’s good Todd, too, in the main. I recommend. (Note: I have struggled over this review for two weeks now – that’s a reason, not an excuse!)
The 10th Chaffinch 