The Thin Man
Spectres (self-released)
This is the third Thin Man album I've heard, and it's just as warped and twisted as the first two.
This isn't americana. It's americana gothic. These songs drive straight for the rotting souls of your friends and neighbors. There's a song called "Optimist's Blues" that is so caustically ironic it corroded my CD player.
Not that I'm complaining. I'm a sucker for black humor and dyspeptic debris of all sorts. My favorite book is Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. This sort of dreary attitude makes me feel warm all over.
And, in fact, I think these guys have gotten darker and meaner...a lot darker and meaner, actually. That's a good thing. There's no point in being kinda harsh. Don't stop at the nose; blast the whole face off, if you know what I mean.
The Thin Man just might scare the pubes off your privates. These are songs for people who can toss back a scotch without blinking, people for whom the sour juice in a bottle of Duchesse du Bourgogne is truly mother's milk. Life is a twisted joke that simply heaps misery upon misery. And damned if stuff like this doesn't make me feel a whole lot better about that.
Aiding and Abetting
'Spectres' by Chicago's The Thin Man is a piece of pure rockin' folk escapism, a steamy, booze drenched trip through an urban landscape scattered with graffiti scrawl and littered with the jetsam of modern city survival.
If you like 'dark', 'Spectres' can be dark. If you want 'real', 'Spectres' is real. If you are looking for 'different', 'Spectres' is simply something else! The Thin Man take on the musical establishment and come out smelling pretty damn sweet!!
The Thin Man don't do rock or folk in the true sense of the words, The Thin Man have a completely different take on what modern music should sound like. Here with 'Spectres' we are served a beautifully droll portion of Thin Man poetic ramblings set to brash soundscapes that are, at times, discordant, often juxtaposed, but always intoxicating. With wonderfully drooled out lyrics that sound like a comin' together of a whiskey soaked Tom Waits and a mind-altered Nick Cave, The Thin Man deliver their goods with complete disregard for the listener's sensibility and susceptibility to aural stimulation. No, The Thin Man isn't gonna be to everyone's taste; 'Spectres' is brash and angular, obtuse and tangential. 'Spectres' is a positive mind-fuck of urban, raw edged folk music with earthy blues undercurrents driven by lazy rockin' grooves. The end product is an unashamedly raw but sensitive compilation of melancholy poetic wares set to jangly, nightmare inducing, pounding industrial backdrops.
The Thin Man play with grit and determined honesty which gives 'Spectres' a grubby but wholesome feel quite unlike most of their contemporaries. The Thin Man take a hard road to musical heaven; they pass-by indie normality and ignore commercial banality to give their combined all to their innovative brand of urban-folk/gutter-rock. 'Spectres' by The Thin Man makes a very pleasant and pretty challenging change from the more obvious and less rewarding kinda indie trash out there at the moment. The Thin Man take a gamble on their sordid brand of contemporary music - for me, the gamble came in with decent odds and the losers are the more traditional pop-rock combos who should look up at the Thin Man on their winner's podium and be thankful that they might have just learned something that they can take away and think about.
'Spectres' by The Thin Man is a real blast and should do well in the cultish sectors of the music buying public. And, don't you just wish that more artists would take a trip down 'Different Street' al la The Thin Man - surely the music world would be a better and more rewarding place for it!! Tasty, very very tasty!!
The Thin Man - Spectres
(Independently released CD, Artsy slightly bluesy pop)
The fourth album from Chicago, Illinois' The Thin Man is a cool and inviting spin. These four guys have a sound that doesn't easily fit into any specific genre.
Their unique brand of slightly bluesy modern pop is certainly loose at times...yet mentally focused and different. The band has been together for five years now and consists of Jason Labrosse (bass), Mike McGrath (drums), Kennedy Greenrod (accordion, guitar, vocals), and Saleem Dhamee (guitar). The playing is inspired and interesting...and Greenrod's slightly distant fluid vocals are totally mesmerizing. Songs are what make Spectres such a cool and rewarding experience. Clever, articulate tunes include "The Last Dance," "Sirens," "Astronauts," and "Cool In Ze Pool." This unique album keeps drawing us back for repeated spins. Substantial and rewarding stuff.
Recommended. (Rating: 5++)
_Babysue.com
Chicago Reader Dec. 9 2005
The Thin Man's third album evokes the best of literate
English R & B . . . only there's an accordion ...
click for full article
The Thin Man
Greasy Heart (2005, Contraphonic)
www.beattheindiedrum.com
I was reading Time magazine the other day and an article headline ran “The Thin Man Expands Coverage For Kids.” The article was actually about the governor of Arkansas but the coincidence and accuracy of the headline is astounding. The Thin Man’s debut, HMS Mondegreen was wonderfully murky mix of dark carnival tunes and creepy sea shanties. This time around the accordion and slower tempos are set aside and what was once a ghostly skeleton crew becomes a full-fledged, fully developed project.
The galloping opener, “My City”, immediately parts the fog of previous efforts, with guitar lines rolling along, deep horns accentuating the beat, and Kenny Greenrod’s brightest sounding vocals yet. “Baby Please” is unique in that it simultaneously has a mariner pop and show review sound at the same time. “Molly O” just blows the doors off the barn outright, probably one of the best Americana stomps I’ve heard in a long time, even with the weird, tone-bending effects sticking in once or twice. “Louisiana Death Ride” is just as it sounds: a merry-go-round gone haywire, speeding beyond control. For those yearning for Thin Man’s ballads, it's supplied as well. The accordion comes out on “Picnic” and his voice once again becomes a heavy, longing drawl. Slow-burner “The Wrong Song” adds backing vocals and horns with great effect, implying a more epic image than you'd expect from a dank tavern ballad. Tom Waits and Nick Cave fans look no further. For those who have not yet warmed up to “Murder Ballads” and the like, here’s your captivating, PG-13 introduction.
The Thin Man have widened their appeal, and while the general indie snob rule equates accessibility with a lack of artistic merit, it just simply isn't the case here. A superior album in almost every respect.
-Mark Hughson 11/22/05
www.uncommonfolk.net
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The Thin ManH.M.S Mondegreen
I've always known The Thin Man as a rather obscure Chicago artist. I never knew until recently that he is originally from Newcastle, England. The Thin Man is Kennedy Greenrod and he has only released two albums in over five years. His first record, A Cloud In Trousers, is out of print and my girlfriend’s copy of it was played so frequently that the artwork on the CD face actually peeled away rendering the disk inoperable. I've seen that happen to vinyl but never to a CD. Must have been cheaply made or she must have just loved the album that much. The Thin Man will remind many listeners of solo Jonathan Richman without the quirky posturing and a little more pirate sounding. Both have similar deep, crooning voices and both have similar musical styles and tastes. Greenrod surrounds himself, just like he did on his debut, with many great specialist musicians on H.M.S Mondegreem which was recorded in 2002/2003 but not released until late 2004. His sophmore record is much deeper sounding and better recorded while also branching out from the fairly simple and standard style of his debut. While The Thin Man sings and mans the accordion, guitar and keys, the rest of his assembled band plays everything from cello to banjo; drums to fluglehorn, lap steel guitar to upright bass and much more. Greenrod's songwriting is impecable and catchy as all hell. The music reminds you of walking down dirty streets at night; a soundtrack of toughness. But The Thin Man's albums also have lots of humor and fun word play. There is nothing cliche going on at any moment. Despite his random releases on labels no one has ever heard of and barely playing live, even in his hometown, Greenrod is like a dark-folk version of My Bloody Valentine's Kevin Shields: he works on his own time. Which is sad for his fans (much like fans of MBV) because you know The Thin Man has so much more in him, more records you can listen to and enjoy but you must be patient with artists I suppose. Plus, who am I to judge what this man has on his palete besides making records for my selfish musical amusement. Skin and Bone Records may or may not be a real record label. I have no idea. They have a P.O. Box but no website and the back of the album directs you to The Thin Man's official website which is quite graphically stunning and just as much worth your time as his music. One can only hope some one gives this guy a break or he eventually breaks through because there are a lot of people out there clamoring for more. And if Greenrod happens to reads this: you owe my girlfriend a copy of your first record!
Entry Filed under: Reviews
http://www.uncommonfolk.net/category/reviews/ | May 10th, 2005
The Thin Man
H.M.S Mondegreen/Skin And Bone Records
Don't you wish you'd been the first kid on the block to hear *Leonard Cohen*? If you mention *Nick Cave* to your friends do they ask puzzled, "The bad what?"; No, they do not is the answer they give. Too bad for you then, my silly-bottomed coffee jockey, because I've already heard *The Thin Man* and you have not...well have you? First let us agree that the accordion is recorded too high in the mix. Now wait, I heard that! Pipe down you! That is not a foregone conclusion as you are trying to be stating that any accordion is too much. Shut your pop-rock hole elst I shut it for you, happy shoes. Now as I was saying, the banjo is a bit jarring at times. Now don't lets start, unclench your brain and unwrap this disc. /H.M.S Mondegreen/ is packed tight with gypsy sorrow, thoughtful cabaret humor, seaside drunkeness and *Kennedy Greenrod*'s wearily smooth British baritone. The tales of warning and wanting are vivid and comforting with a sense that the conveyor has little say in what is presented, but thank God that he does. Greenrod's songwriting is on the level of the aforementioned Cave, while his characters haven't lost touch with the common man. "The Ballad Of A+M" is spit out bitterly and features the only violin/accordion /London Calling/ dub break ever recorded. The weakest track, the dancy "OK Fine" is passable if you think of an acoustic *Shriekback*. Or Cohen's /Jazz Police/. Yeah, I could do without it too, but the trumpets are sweet. Like an ill-conceived Rosencrantz (or was it Guildenstern?) experiment, "Yes But How Much" unsuccessfully attempts to find a scientific measurement for love. "We poured our love into wee plastic baggies/sealed them with twist ties/we dropped them into the bath/and I thought of Archimedes naked and histerical/and I too felt like running out screaming/but his wife was embarrassed/how can you blame her? You know what the neighbors are like." I rarely use the word, so here goes. Genius. I demand a recount on my top ten list: the votes from Chicago weren't all in yet. If The Thin Man ever runs into fellow Chicagoan *Andrew Bird*, God help us all.
*/-Ewan Wadharmi/* ZDNET
*H.M.S. Mondegreen*
(Skin and Bones)
*by Michael Metivier* www.popmatters.com
Whatever happened to good old-fashioned rock-and-roll turf wars? You know, when rock scenes from different cities became rivals, or at least synonymous with quality for a span of years. Detroit Rock City? Sunset Strip? Seattle? Dust in the wind. The positive side of all this is that marketing gurus don't ruin your fair city's good name by sucking out its soul with overexposure. The downside is the loss of bragging rights for the rowdy denizens of Cleveland, Phoenix, or Oshkosh. Brooklyn keeps trying to brag, but, well, /come on/. Plus, the best bands in your favorite zip code play in relative anonymity while bands culled for the mainstream are as unspecific as a news anchor's voice. Chicago's The Thin Man evokes that city's factory districts, its lazy, loamy Chicago River, its corner bars, its cruel winters, and much more. A salty, romantic ode to tragic love, the bottle, and what happens when people "never have fun anymore", its one of the city's hidden treasures.
With hints of Tom Waits, Jacques Brel, and punk-infused C&W, it also sounds like nothing else around. If my sorry ass could make deadlines, I'd have nominated The Thin Man for Best Band To Make The Accordion Cool Again on these pages. Alas. Maybe they''ll win it next year. Frontman Kennedy Greenrod is indeed a tall, thin man, but with a low voice that can swing and snarl. On /H.M.S. Mondegreen/ he's assembled a solid group of players, playing everything from cello and banjo to lap steel and flugelhorn. There's a consistent tone that binds it all together, though each song asserts its differences in structure, style, and speed. Throughout all, Greenrod's distinct voice (he was born in Newcastle, England, moving to the States at 17) stretches out syllables or spits them out, even crooning up to high falsetto on the closer, "Sometime Soon". "'Til The Good Lord Shows His Face" announces the record with the upbeat pump-and-wheeze of accordion and plucked banjo, as Greenrod tells a fetching bird "I heard with what skill you pulled the thorn out of love's paw". For a split-second it sounds like the Beatles' "Don't Pass Me By" but you'll thank the good Lord it's not. It's both sunny and menacing. The refrain is rich with vocal harmony and melody: "Until the ships sink / Until the fish float / Until the good Lord shows His face". I can't think of another song that invokes the apocalypse with such warmth. "The Ballad of A+M" is a gypsy-ish stomp, a gothic tale along the lines of 16 Horsepower, with boozy parlor ambience replacing religious fervor. After each verse Greenrod returns to the phrase, "it's no picnic", and it builds in resonance until it hits a growling apex. Steve Emmerman's cello shivers ecstatically while Kenny Dread's drum work downshifts from rock to a slow reggae bounce for a short spell. Even when the songs pulse along breathlessly, they contain shifts in dynamics and instrumentation, such as the organ and cooing background vocals that color "Lazarose". "For Us" is a waltzing noir classic, featuring some of the album's finest lyrics. "All the stars they shine for us / All the miners mine for us / Nightingales are singing now for us / All the hens lay eggs for us / All the beggars beg for us / Burglars steal their candlesticks for us" he sings, and one can imagine a drunken sailor doing the same, swinging his legs off the end of a dock while cats yowl in the alley and a woman with a rose tattoo on her breast listens attentively from an upper story window.
The Thin Man's songs have a way of not only conjuring what's contained in the lyrics, but thoughts and images that lie just beyond. The world of /H.M.S. Mondegreen/ is full of cigarette smoke and ghosts that inhabit even the songs they're not mentioned in, as in the ballad "Warm Hands" when he sings "I wish the moment would freeze on the wall", and wails "I just want to be a good man / And I just want to be kind" atop descending bursts of electric guitar. "Yes, But How Much? " speeds along like a runaway desert train, its chooglin' rhythm overlaid with pedal steel and deep cello tones. It sounds like no other song on /Mondegreen/, yet still feels like a deserved part of the whole. It also deserves to be heard coast to coast, live or on record, for Chicago has renewed cause to brag /and/ share.
*? 28 September 2004 *
Greasy Heart (2005, Contraphonic)
I was reading Time magazine the other day and an article headline ran “The Thin Man Expands Coverage For Kids.” The article was actually about the governor of Arkansas but the coincidence and accuracy of the headline is astounding. The Thin Man’s debut, HMS Mondegreen was wonderfully murky mix of dark carnival tunes and creepy sea shanties. This time around the accordion and slower tempos are set aside and what was once a ghostly skeleton crew becomes a full-fledged, fully developed project.
The galloping opener, “My City”, immediately parts the fog of previous efforts, with guitar lines rolling along, deep horns accentuating the beat, and Kenny Greenrod’s brightest sounding vocals yet. “Baby Please” is unique in that it simultaneously has a mariner pop and show review sound at the same time. “Molly O” just blows the doors off the barn outright, probably one of the best Americana stomps I’ve heard in a long time, even with the weird, tone-bending effects sticking in once or twice. “Louisiana Death Ride” is just as it sounds: a merry-go-round gone haywire, speeding beyond control. For those yearning for Thin Man’s ballads, it's supplied as well. The accordion comes out on “Picnic” and his voice once again becomes a heavy, longing drawl. Slow-burner “The Wrong Song” adds backing vocals and horns with great effect, implying a more epic image than you'd expect from a dank tavern ballad. Tom Waits and Nick Cave fans look no further. For those who have not yet warmed up to “Murder Ballads” and the like, here’s your captivating, PG-13 introduction.
The Thin Man have widened their appeal, and while the general indie snob rule equates accessibility with a lack of artistic merit, it just simply isn't the case here. A superior album in almost every respect.
-Mark Hughson 11/22/05 beattheindiedrum.com
H.M.S. Mondegreen (2004, Skin and Bone)
Every once in a while, an album comes along that permeates such a distinct atmosphere, saturated in and of its own world, that it almost seems to live a life of its own. It is at that point that I marvel at what sounds can create.
The Thin Man is cool like that. With ample amounts of ominous accordion and organ, along with equally mood engulfing lap steel guitar, cello, and banjo, the band play mellow, creepy ballads of loneliness and what might at first seem like sea shanties, but really it's just the motion sickness you get listening to the swervy, lovelorn tales of a graying drifter. There is the (albeit overshadowed) regular guitar, upright bass, and percussion there too; fleshing in the compositions, but what glues the whole group together is the voice of singer/accordionist/guitarist Kenny Greenwood. His foggy baritone reminds me of the charming-but-morose Stephin Merritt, but the eeriness that surrounds his songs point more towards Tom Waits and Nick Cave.
The campfire dirge 'Til The Good Lord Shows His Face' and the abandoned carnival-sounding 'The Ballad Of A + M' are captivating, while the…um…spooky merry-go-round ditty 'For Us' is haunting as hell. "Don't answer if he knocks, he's got a bag of dirty tricks for us…" isn't exactly the feel good hit of the late summer. 'Ok Fine' surprisingly takes a turn into acoustic-led, salsa-esque territory, while still maintaining a touch of gloom. It's the vocals I tell you!
HMS Mondegreen continues to tread wearily along in this fashion, and while you've still got a few more gems here and there, it's a pretty plodding exercise (except for the thankfully upbeat and fresh 'Yes, But How Much?'). And yet, here I go giving a thumb up to this album. I find it hard to believe that there's a market out there for a disc full of 4-5 minute disturbing accordion ballads, so in that respect, it's target audience is probably really limited. However, there's something about the project that is intriguing, enough so that fans of Andrew Bird, Bonnie Prince Billy, or even Neutral Milk Hotel (along with the aforementioned artists) might seek this out and fill in another corner of their cabaret/country waltzes-of-doom music collection.
-Mark Hughson 7/3/05 beattheindiedrum.com
H.M.S. Mondegreen
*The Thin Man*
(Skin and Bone Records) /Americana/
The Thin Man is the moniker of Newcastle-born Chicagoan Kennedy Greenrod. Backed by a crackerjack band of like-minded Windy City stalwarts, Greenrod and his accordion belt out some sideshow-by-the-seashore gypsy Americana that very nearly defies description. Imagine five or six unemployed carnival rousties busking around the Great Lakes in the back of a 1976 El Camino singing half-remembered jigs and tarantellas to extremely wary tourists, all the while hoping to earn enough gas money to see them to the Gulf Coast and a potentially lucrative tourist season. Don?t let this one sneak past you. It?s infectious ? not quite permagrin-inducing, but damn close. Greenrod?s congested drawl may take some acclimation to those not already enamored with the likes of Robyn Hitchcock, Frank Tovey or Billy Bragg.
Banjo, snappy, waltzing drums and the aforementioned accordion may make comparisons to Tom Waits? Raindogs seem compulsory. However, considering the ancestry and demographics of the band, this album has a lot more in common with one of Jon Langford?s projects. Think Curse of the Mekons minus the Marxist leanings and overtly political lyrics.
Michael Steiger
leoweekly.com
*The Thin Man*, "H.M.S. Mondegreen"
This is the first out-of-nowhere delight of 2005. Kennedy Greenrod, aka, The Thin Man, shanghais you on a leaky ship with creaky wood that moans sorrowful tales of violence and loves lost as the grimy sailors huddle around the captain's accordion and eye each other suspiciously. Greenrod's voice is a perfect anchor, his Cohenesque groan ably backed by a timeless fugue of cello and guitar. My only complaint is that it needs more flugelhorn.
Sounds like: The Decemberists, Nick Cave, Tom Waits
By Mario Villanueva upstatelink.com
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