CD Review: My Morning Jacket's Evil Urges

If this were a traditional CD review, I would start by discussing the title to My Morning Jacket’s new album: Evil Urges. I would most likely write that the title preps the reader for the world they are about to enter upon pressing play. The album is a world ruled by love held captive in a dizzying tug of war, a world rained on by petals titled “Love Me” and “Love Me Not” and some still left untitled. The evil urge is the urge to love and whether or not that urge is evil. If this were a traditional CD review, I would write something like that. This would probably lead to half-drunken, ambiguously insightful, off-the-wall comment that result in a pretentious Aha! moment not to be found here. Then, I would begin to break down each track, often reminiscing on an artist or song the track may or may not refer to:

“Evil Urges” employs Prince-ly vocals ooh-oohing “Evil urges, baby,” don’t they feel good? Touch Me I’m Going to Scream Pt. 1” is a Coldplay cover of America, a plea for the boundlessness of love. In “Highly Suspicious,” frontman Jim James hallucinates Prince cooing while detained in German barracks. “I’m Amazed” utilizes twangy electric guitar-playing with Wild Turkey wailing a la “One Big Holiday” to not sound trite in singing of the worldly wonder of love. In referencing America again, the band croons the lovey-dovey blues on “Thank You Too!” “Sec Walkin” finds a sober, balding James Taylor moping over a Marvin Gaye record. In “Two Halves,” a doo-wop balladeer imbues a younger generation with his sagely wisdom regarding time-tested love. “Librarian” channels George Harrison angelically strumming an acoustic guitar in an innocent longing for a love that never was. “Look At You” is a smiling, clean-shaven ballad that would easily find itself on the American Idol shortlist. “Aluminum Park” reminds us of the My Morning Jacket we’ve blanketed ourselves in since Okonokos. “Remnants” is a good-time Southern Rock screamer. “Smokin From Shootin” is a ballad of self-induced loneliness. As is requisite in album reviews, I would choose “Smokin” to cite lyrics that parlay into the mood of the song: “Smokin’ from shootin’ at nothing, Running from something that isn’t there.” If Brian Eno had produced Radiohead’s In Rainbows, “Touch Me I’m Going to Scream Pt. 2” would be one of its highlights; instead, “Touch Me… Pt.2” ties up the album with an eerie yet obvious bow. “Good Intentions” is a five-second get-it-got it-good affirmation for an album that lends much to the careful ear.

And then would come the summary conclusion of the review, appraising the album’s value to the world of Music, yes, capital M. Something akin to: With Evil Urges My Morning Jacket has affirmed itself as not just another Bonnaroo band, your move, Radiohead.

But this is not a traditional album; it does not merit a traditional review. This album is too complex for sentence-long summaries of each song. This album is too complex for anything resembling a summary review. With this album you do not plug and play, you do not just add water. You do not listen to this album from the stereo when you have friends over for dinner. You listen with headphones on, locked in the bathroom. You keep this one to yourself. You listen while closing your eyes in front of the mirror because this album shows you feelings you’d hoped to keep hidden.

The album floods the subject of love like rain in the desert: nowhere to hide, no need to. On Evil Urges, Jim James and the gang explode a mirror image of love into a thousand shards, but, instead of puzzling together the pieces, they decided to sketch a new portrait. They tackle love’s highs with a nearly mainlining vocal playfulness. They delve into the depths of life sans love with delicate acoustics plucking the heartstrings. They lament, and they laugh. They shock, and they shudder. They trace love through musical twists and turns, some obvious, some still oblivious, all a part of the chase for what a love song sounds like. They finish with “Touch Me I’m Going to Scream Pt.2,” a resolve that once you find a love to hold onto you live with the echo ringing in your ears as you clench your eyes closed for fear it’s not still lying there next to you.

My Morning Jacket has not recorded a radio-friendly album or a concert-friendly album. This is an album not for those who solely tap their toes or nod their heads; this is for those who hear the music even after it’s stopped, for those who listen to records, not reviews.