It's relatively well-known by this point that, when away from their bandmates and left to their own devices, frontmen have a penchant for producing elaborate, introspective, and perfectionist solo albums. It can be debated whether these albums accurately embody the lead artist's true musical vision, or if they are simply stress-relievers, needed as a cathartic escape from their day-to-day musical careers. If nothing else, a solo album allows for the musician to once again feel a sense of utter control, a feeling missed when constantly weighing the creative suggestions of fellow band members and anxious label executives. Jim Putnam (a.k.a. Mt. Wilson Repeater) leads the Los Angeles-based Radar Bros., and, listening to his self-titled, debut solo album, one can picture Putnam as a pre-band, musically inclined youth, content to sit in his bedroom alone and craft every layer of his own personal soundscapes.
Interestingly, the disparity between Jim Putnam as lead singer of Radar Bros. and Jim Putnam as Mt. Wilson Repeater is tellingly vast. With his alt-country band, Putnam is a damned good singer able to balance the loneliness and jubilation that have made Radar Bros. one of the more beloved slowcore acts in L.A. As a solo artist, Putnam displays remarkable aptitude for layering acoustics with electronics and creating rich sonic textures, thick with emotion and SoCal chillout. He doesn't necessarily ‘sing’ much on this album, but occasionally throws a few dashes of vocals as additional flavors into the musical chili con carne. Putnam plays pretty much every instrument, produces every track, and genre-hops a bit between dark country ambient and mellow western cinematic -- the result being an enjoyable headphones album with enough details to keep the listener engaged for several play-throughs.
The opening track, “Canmtady,” is perhaps the spaciest and most interestingly textured on the album, looping synth patterns over pads, moans, and what sound like spoons. “Island In The Sun” and “The Conversation” both sound like songs off of Beck’s Sea Change, the former remixed by a tired Dan Snaith and the second remixed by Air. “Basketball Song” is one of the more disparate songs released so far this year; starting with a slow Casio bossa-nova beat, gritty gospel organ chords start to frame the song before guitar layers, piano, and more synth loops take over and carry it to Album Leaf-sized swells. Oh, and every 30 seconds or so he cuts the music to play a sample of kids playing basketball. By no means representative of the remainder of the album, the song does constitute the sum of Mt. Wilson Repeater’s parts: eclectic instrument combinations, quirky rhythm choices, and unexplained rests.
The main flaw with the album is its gradual decline toward the dour and repetitive. Like passengers on a long car ride, Mt. Wilson Repeater sounds more sleepy and obvious as it progresses. However, many debut passion projects suffer from similar trends toward over-development. Regardless, Jim Putnam displays substantial musical ingenuity on his first Mt. Wilson Repeater release, and we can all anticipate his next album to hopefully take us out of his bedroom and truly onto the open road -- where he is most at home.