A.C. Newman – Get Guilty

Carl “A.C.” Newman has carved out quite a niche for himself in the past decade as one of the foremost songwriters in the indie community, much less in the whole of the music world. While some observers might begin with his days leading Superconductor or Zumpano in the 90s, others would claim that the true progression and growth of his style can be observed across the four records he’s cut at the de facto leader of The New Pornographers. When you factor in his acclaimed 2004 release, The Slow Wonder, Mr. Newman is both a busy man and one of the foremost progenitors of crisp, clean, power pop on the market.
Thus, when digging into Get Guilty, one feels compelled to first compare and contrast the album with his past efforts. On the whole, this is a strong follow-up to The Slow Wonder, and it could be considered as a potentially better record, since Newman has been able to sharpen his songwriting quill on the two records put out by The New Pornographers in the interim. In relation to that band’s material, where he cedes control long enough to allow Dan Bejar to get a few songs in, Get Guilty is a smart, unified effort that far surpasses the languid tones of 2007′s Challengers and comes close to matching the hooky power of 2005′s Twin Cinema.
As has become Newman’s modus operandi, aggressive acoustic and baritone guitar strumming, surf guitar flourishes, and forceful acoustic piano pounding drive the entire project. This is real pop music – intelligent lyrics and big hooks that don’t kowtow to cliche, songs filled with diversity in melody, tempo, and dynamics – “The Palace at 4AM,” “The Changeling (Get Guilty),” “The Collected Works,” and “All of My Days and All of My Days Off” serve as the communal centerpiece and showcase for the tones that propel this record forward. Individually, they are high-quality, upbeat power pop tracks that would make Harry Nilsson, Brian Wilson, and, hell, even Billy Joel rather pleased.
In terms of the lyrics, Newman has few peers regarding the penning of syncopated phrases that ring with familiar themes to match his smart pop songcraft. “The Heartbreak Rides” serves a paean to the confusion of adolescent hormones with the words, “Just out of the woods and yelling down the mountains, all I really wanted was to go downtown, and so we ride. The heartbreak slides. Pushing at the modern sunset to your window, gestured with the play chain hand, she said, ‘Let’s go.’ ‘L.A.,’ she cried. The heartbreak rides for free.” The indie-pop track “Prophets” begins with a disillusioned thought shared by many cultural cynics in the post-Christian West: “I was a silent partner. I found myself with the rabble. I stood on the mound hip-shot thinking, but not out loud, ‘There are too many prophets here.’” When referencing his traveling vessel in “Submarines of Stockholm,” Newman seemingly compares one’s personal emergence from a haze of unfounded beliefs with the rising of a submarine to the surface when he sings, “Stop twisting your words into shapes, shapes you can only make out when you squint. Traveling with heads full of myth, our submarine pulls into Stockholm.”
The only cuts that don’t seem up to Newman’s normal standards are “There Are Maybe Ten or Twelve” and “Elemental” in that they are mere passable tracks that pale in comparison to the rest of the project. “There Are Maybe Ten or Twelve” opens up the entire record and starts off with strength, but the mini-orchestra of tympani, strings, and percussion toys present only serve to mask the core elements of guitar and piano that undergird most every other song. Where “Elemental” fails is that it’s merely a tame pop tune set to a jangly waltz rhythm. And while it’s one of my favorite stand-alone tracks, the pacing of the floor-stomping track “Like A Hitman, Like A Dancer” doesn’t match of the whole of Get Guilty.
With this release, it is apparent that Newman is working at a level unparalleled in contemporary music. Often, when a songwriter has no one else to compete with outside of himself, he runs the risk of his material becoming slightly stale and tired. Thankfully, Newman has belied that tendency with some of his best music to date. Inevitably, one must wonder whether or not his talents would be better served as a solo artist instead of fronting that aforementioned and critically-acclaimed indie supergroup.