6.08.2007

Cherries/S.R.P.

Brendan Benson
One Mississippi

God, I love this album. For those keeping score at home, this is from the Virgin Release, not the Star Time International re-release. Yeah, I know I'm getting indier-than-thou on you (is that possible on a major label release?), but I will toot my own horn. I knew how good he was before you did, before Jack White took him on, before Saturn used his music in a commercial. Actually, Bert did, and he filled me in, but that's beside the point. For a time, whenever I saw this in a used bin (usually for less than a dollar), I would buy it and give it to someone, hoping he or (more likely) she would catch on. No one ever really did. Virgin dropped Brendan, and it was 6 years before he would release commercial ready songs again.

When I worked in a record store, we played this album into the ground. If it had been vinyl, the promo copy would have been smooth. Of course, it never translated into sales, but we tried. Actually, we just took the numerous promotional copies home for ourselves, as our manager forbade playing it anymore, but dammit, I enjoyed it.

Cherries here is the closing track. After a couple minutes of silence, the real finisher pops up. Genuine hidden track people! Now annoying for taking up extra space on my hard drive, but how were they to know a decade ago that CDs would never last? Cherries starts off softly picking a R.E.M. guitar lick. Well, it does. Something off of Murmur, If I remember correctly. Anyway, the comparison is shed rather quickly and the song dives into what had already become routine subject matter for Mr. Benson--the odd girl with whom he is in love. My favorite couplet describe bringing her home to meet mom and dad, but being wary because she may either smile or spit on them. You stay classy, Detroit ladies.

S.R.P. refers to Strawberry Rhubarb Pie, the hidden track that all musicians loved to surprise you with at the end. As with most hidden tracks at the time, this song is a departure from the rest of the album. But, unlike, say, Endless Nameless, where the track is an infuriating mess of noise and half-thought out ideas, SRP is a bluegrass romp that namechecks my home state. Now, I've never even seen a Strawberry Rhubarb Pie, but I'm sure it's delicious. SRP is, I believe, sung by Benson's muse of the time, one Miss Emma J. It's a fine closer, but come on, do I need a further minute of silence after the track as well? Boooooooo.

I guess today's lesson is that hidden, album ending tracks are a bane of existence for someone who just wants to dump his CDs in the computer and can't be bothered figuring out how to edit down the tracks. That, and I knew BB was awesome before you did, and I can sleep better because of it.

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