Aimee Mann

To my ears, Aimee Mann’s voice will always be irreversibly linked to Paul Thomas Anderson’s masterful film Magnolia. Mann’s work is featured throughout the movie – her sultry and vulnerable alto vocals perfectly matching the tone of Anderson’s script. Magnolia is above all else a collage of stories about loneliness and the effects it has those it afflicts. Mann serves as the show’s minstrel, narrating the inner thoughts of the characters on screen until they have no choice but to sing along. Shortly after discovering Magnolia, I picked up Aimee Mann’s fourth solo release, 2002’s remarkable Lost in Space. It was then that I understood why Anderson featured her so prevalently in his film; her songwriting is disarmingly honest and poignant – a sequence of anecdotes that feel so personal and yet universal, with vocals that somehow manage turn the page from sadness to melancholy to bitterness with every phrase.

On Mann’s latest album, @#%&*! Smilers, her songwriting chops are once again on full display. On the opening track, “Freeway”, Mann sings about selfishness, consumer culture and class clashes, describing Orange County as a place “where everyone’s a doctor or a specialist in retail.” “You’ve got a lot of money but you cannot keep your bills paid/ The sacrifice is worth it just to hang around the arcade,” she writes, in what may be the perfect sing-a-long song in this pre-recession, $4/gallon gas, still need to buy designer clothes economic summer. It’s also a perfect example of Mann’s ability to vocally change dynamics and intensity instantly, giving her the ability to sing in a more honest way than most can pull off without sounding desperate.

The album’s standout track is almost certainly “It’s Over,” a heart-wrenching song about the way we cope with disappointment both through masochistic behavior and avoiding blame for our mistakes. Mann’s chorus is especially poignant as she sings, “But you sit there, in the darkness/ And you make plans, but they’re all blues/ And you blame God when you’re lonely / And you’ll call it fate when you show up too late, and it’s over.” It’s a mesmerizing confession that states all at once one of the great mysteries of life – that we are in control of our choices, but perhaps not in control of our destiny – while acknowledging that the mystery itself may indeed be a cover up for our guilt.

To be sure, there are moments on the album when Mann seems off her A-game. “Thirty One Today” is a bit obvious in its subject matter and the lyrics therein seem a bit trite. “Stranger into Starman” is a brief tune that takes a good metaphor and barely explores it, leaving the listener confused and disappointed. For the most part, however, @#%&*! Smilers is another stellar release from Aimee Mann – a collection of tracks that cut deep while somehow managing to sooth through the power of the soothing vibrato of a great performer in the prime of her career. The album is a perfect companion to either a cup of coffee or a shot of whiskey, depending on the need at hand.

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