Was the black-eyed dog in Nick Drake's song black-eyed as in evil or black-eyed as in swollen and bruised? Is it just a vague incarnation of the Grim Reaper? Or is it something less obvious? One thing's for sure -- it's a striking image. This sparse, chilling tune was fittingly covered by gloom-and-doom champions, The Swans, on their World of Skin album. Now it's been done (with even sparser
instrumentation) on experimental duo Beequeen's latest release. And the song is still as starkly perturbing as it was when I first heard the original. Sure one could suggest the dog is simply death, the eternal rest from aging and weariness that Drake is longing for. But the dog called for more, and it's hard to say exactly what it wants more of.
As a lover of ambiguity, this puzzlement is not frustrating to me. And it's far from being the most unusual song the sad folkie penned (if anyone had any idea as to what "Harvest Breed" is about, I'd be curious to know). Here and now it has provided a highlight for Beequeen's spooky, seemingly shapeless pick-your-miniature-void excursion. Despite sporting an erotic, red-tinted photo on the cover and bearing a song titled "Admiration of the Rod," this album is as naggingly blank as it is sensual. I can't say it's a great love-making soundtrack, unless your sex is very slow and morose.
It needs to be said that most of the tunes on this record are simply flat and uninspiringly derivative. The opener sounds like an instrumental outtake of Pavement's "Spit on a Stranger." It's so basic and pointless, it makes me feel like the main menu of my Slow Century DVD has been left cycling. "On the Road to Everywhere" sounds like a Do Make Say Think song that never gets to build into anything substantial. Then there's "Buzzbag Drive," a poorly drummed Lynch snippet in the realm of Lost Highway or Mulholland Dr. Perhaps the song's supposed to be a shambolic tribute, as the title could possibly imply, but that doesn't change the fact that it feels tossed off and bland.
The atmosphere of the album is very assured, yet there is little to anchor the listener, to keep them coming back beyond a preliminary run-through. It works somewhat like the frustratingly drab songs of Set Fire to the Flames -- only more accessible. There are melodies, just not very consequential ones. They pass without notice. The Bodyshop -- along with a good deal of Beequeen's past material -- feels really tossed off. If that's not the case, then the group lacks imaginative prowess and is content to revel in the vapid pretentiousness of their sound. For now experimental music lovers can pass on these guys. But if you're looking to create your own kick-ass Nick Drake covers comp, their stoic cover of "Black Eyed Dog" is a must.
1. Swag Cave
2. Sad Sheep
3. The Dream-O-Phone
4. Black Eyed Dog
5. The Body Shop
6. Penelope Patience
7. On The Road to Everywhere
8. Blackburn
9. Admiration of the Rod
10. Buzzbag Drive
11. The Last Song of the Dodo
More about: Beequeen
