Marnie Stern - This Is It and I Am It and You Are It and So Is That and He Is It and She Is It and It Is It and That Is That

Transformer

Marnie Stern, a darling of guitar technicians and navel-gazing music insiders shows why she’s loved in limited circles. Her new CD “This is it and I am it and you are it and so is that and he is it and she is it and it is it and that is that” should be a warning right from the start. Not only is it borrowed (poet Alan Watts c. 1960), it’s long and self indulgent. The CD cover boasts a sticker claiming “Kill Rock Star Goddess of Shred™, Marnie Stern, has created a pop record for an alternate dimension – where hooks and choruses are sent careening through a cracked kaleidoscope.” It’s wishful thinking, at best. It’s not pop.

When I heard the first song ‘Prime” I was intrigued, hopeful and definitely looking forward to what this CD had to offer. The concept started strong. A stream of consciousness in the lyrics; chaotic music to back it up; a twisted, angular musical assault. A very cool way to set the tone, and I was looking forward to being blown away. I am a fan of avant guard angular music, and a deep admirer of musical skill and talent.

But the stream of consciousness ran together, song after song, and the aural assault never let up. One song sounds like another. The only lyrics that stood out were a quote/reference to Memories Can’t Wait by Talking Heads – a better song than anything here. The rest of the lyrics are obvious and self-aware. It’s an intellectually puerile sophomoregasm of thought that relies on the listener being as infatuated with every aspect of Marnie as she seems to be with herself.

Frankly I couldn’t remember these songs while they were playing. What I do remember, looking back, is a relentless lack of diversity and musical contrast. Vocals and guitars all pounding out the same rhythmic structure - like a competition to see who could play more notes in the shortest amount of time. No dynamics, no musical dimension. Instead, an over-effort to be incredible shredders. A case might be made for them here, but the one dimensional, play-as-many-notes-as-you–can-at-all-times approach doesn’t show a lot of musical thought, so much as a lot of practicing alone. What is unique about Marnie is: she’s a woman. If she were a man, she’d a be dime-a-dozen guitar hero you can hear at any Guitar Center or music school.

Unfortunately Marnie Stern and her Drummer/Producer Zach Hill seem intent on proving their shredding technique and this is what dominates every track on the CD. Whatever melodies may have existed originally, music and song take more than a back seat to the self important overplaying these two do. Without something to counteract the aggressive sameness of every track – something musically simple to listen to and remember -  the angles, craziness and off-kilter ‘shredding’ become boring and overdone.

The production is low-fi, sounding like it was done at home on a computer in the living room (don’t get me wrong - I dig it, and consider it a positive). This, at least, seems appropriate to the songwriting. The artwork is as chaotic as the music – so again, very appropriate. Colors splash across the pages in a visual recreation of the chaos in the music. Production and art direction are organically connected with the concept of the music. As a package it’s conceptually cohesive.

But in the end I am left with the impression that the ‘Goddess of Shred’ is only that – a practice fiend with no music in her fingers; over intellectualized music void of conveying the emotion it’s intended to carry. For angular avant guard, I prefer Mission of Burma, or early Talking Heads, or a crazy early 80’s punk band from Philly called The Stickmen.