Hal Hewlett explores the legacy of Neutral Milk Hotel's album In the Aeroplane Over the Sea 25 years on; an album that has become emblematic with today's nostalgic lofi-production and indie-psych sound.
I’m not sure when the term “indie darling” originated, or which album, film, or book was the first to claim this sought-after moniker that reaches a whole new level of ubiquity from the similar “cult classic”. Although I may not know to which album it was first applied, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea is now nearly synonymous with it, considering the sheer volume of sentences containing both. Neutral Milk Hotel’s indie rock classic turn 25 years old today, and it’s hard to really quantify just how titanic this album has become in the minds of listeners - although that won’t stop us from trying.
Speaking of terms that seem, as ever, so applicable to this album, the ever-present “lo-fi” will always come to mind. Songs like Two-Headed Boy or The King of Carrot Flowers Pt. 1, led by their shaky, introspective lyrics and simple guitar backings, could sound cold, or understated. Instead, the effect is almost enveloping; I sink into these songs like a soft bed after a long day. The production is all-encompassing, warm, embracing, and thick; a padded room for singer-songwriter Jeff Magnum to bounce his lyrics around. Beyond the production on the acoustic chord progressions, the often highly multi-instrumental, folksy sections of tracks like The Fool, with their analog-feel and eclectic instrument choices, make for treacle-thick soundscapes that draw you in and seldom let you go. This signature texture of the album comes partially from a DIY approach to the album’s sound; although the fuzz is ever present, hardly any actual distortion or fuzz pedals were actually used, instead opting for heavy compression, dedicated mixing and more simple solutions such as making sure to play really close to a turned-on pre-amp. While the album’s actual genre of style veers wildly from track to track, the overall soundscape of the album is relatively unified and features similar techniques used on vocals and instrumentation throughout, creating an effect that is immediately identifiable.
Of course, the enveloping softness of The Fool and others is contrasted with tracks like Holland, 1945, a track utterly drowned in shoegazey fuzz and distortion, upon which the brass croons and Magnum sounds more assured than ever. Holland, 1945’s distortion finds a mirror in Ghost, whose foghorn fuzz blasts into the track with impressive grace. More interesting still is Communist Daughter, through whose strange musical landscape the guitar and vocals lead meander with melancholic abandon. The musical texture of the album leads to some haunting moments; the latter half of Oh Comely, the straining vocals, hollow percussion, swooping horns, the fake-out ending in which Magnum’s swan-song vocals fall into backing for another verse, feels utterly inimitable. Talking through the sound and production of In the Aeroplane Over the Sea would be incomplete without a mention of [untitled], an instrumental track that smashes together elements of psychedelia and harmonica in an explosive and haunting penultimate track, a delightful assault on the senses. All of it is so richly textured, so finely crafted, it feels almost unfair that the best that I can do to describe many of the songs are simply “acoustic ballads''. The hazy fugue of In the Aeroplane Over the Sea aids one of its most identifiable qualities (sadly not as appreciable in an often playlist-driven age of listening) is its flow; the entire album melts into a brilliant, uninterrupted through-listen, whose only true break-point comes at its near exact midpoint, between The Fool and Holland, 1945. Especially memorable is the transition from the album’s penultimate track, [untitled], to its closer, looping back around to the introspective, tender, acoustic sound of its opening tracks.
The album’s warm and thick sound serves as strange bedfellows for Magnum’s frenetic and esoteric lyrics and vocalisations. In the Aeroplane Over the Sea seems to twist and defy any single categorisation of a unifying lyrical theme or concept; although throughout the album incorporates recurring themes, Freudian allusions, references to the life of Anne Frank, or tarot card readings. The end result is an album that feels so personal as to be almost all-encompassing; Magnum’s songwriting feels like the language of collapse or introspection, but to pin it on one single through-line is limiting. Single songs often sport impressively strong lyrical themes; through the haze of strange imagery, the power of songs like The King of Carrot Flowers Pt.1 or the album’s titular track to convey their themes of impermanence of childhood innocence is unparalleled. Tens of thousands of words have been spilt on the impressiveness and the mysticism of In the Aeroplane Over the Sea’s lyrics since its inception; it serves us well enough to acknowledge that they are invariably mysterious, identifiable, and powerful.
In the Aeroplane Over the Sea may be the very model of a musical cult classic. Like other cult classic albums that have gone on to achieve near-mythical status (Weezer’s Pinkerton, The Velvet Underground and Nico, Nirvana’s Bleach), the album’s release was rather understated, giving way only later to the massively positive re-evaluation that it has garnered since release. Listening now, it’s not massively difficult to see why; many of the album’s defining characteristics (its often challenging and awkward lyrics, its iconoclastic sound, its eclectic range of instrumentation) can be as forbidding as they are inviting. It’s an album that is at once easy to see the appeal of, but also rather obvious why listeners may bounce off it (not least its sometimes suffocating “hipster” reputation). The album is older than I am, but more so than almost any album I’ve listened to or revisited for The Mic, it really does feel recent. The only thing that actually dates this album is its titanic and ever-evolving reputation that stretches back into and beyond the early days of the internet. Even now, hundreds of bands operate under the imitation or influence of the lo-fi production and indie-psych of which In the Aeroplane Over the Sea has come to be emblematic. 25 years on, it’s hard to imagine the album ageing much at all; if anything, much of what we understand as indie-rock still lives in its shadow. While In the Aeroplane Over the Sea may be outgrown and even outdone by musicians of today, in my mind, it remains a near-ageless achievement.
Hal Hewlett
Edited by Roxann Yus
Cover image courtesy of Neutral Milk Hotel via Facebook.
Commentaires