General Elektriks – Good City for Dreamers

If there is one thing the new General Elektriks album should be, it’s engaging. A one-man show featuring a Frenchman (turned Californian), his clavinet, drum machines and a deluge of fancy foot pedals is more than enough to draw you in. And Harvé “RV” Salters is in the business of making music that says what he wants it to say and is not tied down by rules. He said it himself. So I had high hopes. Perhaps too high?

Let’s start with the positive. The delicate keys are at Salters’ mercy, and the piano really is the star of almost every track. The vocals never waver, unless it’s intentional. And, in songs like “Mirabelle Pockets,” jazz, rock, pop and hip-hop are all butted up against one another with practically no transition at all, yet the mix of genres never feels forced. Musically, Good City for Dreamers has loads of potential. Unfortunately, it seems as if GE’s brilliance took a break when it was time for track variety and lyrical development.

It’s embarrassingly easy to take in the entire album without even knowing it. Songs flow too seamlessly from one to the next. The 51-minute record is peacefully unremarkable, reminiscent of the music selected to whisper through overhead speakers at bookstores, coffee shops and boutiques. It provides universally palatable background noise without distracting the potential customer from the novel, latte or handbag he or she is eyeing. Listening intently for the first time on my 45-minute commute, I found myself lost after two tracks: daydreaming, making phone calls and inadvertently changing from my mp3 player to the radio.

“Helicopter,” though, did catch my attention. I turned up the volume and indulged in the Shiny Toy Guns/Bloc Party lovechild of a tune. I soon realized there were no verses, just endlessly delightful repetition. But that didn’t stop me from enjoying it. It’s one of those songs that helps you get through the day by allowing you, for three minutes and 20 seconds, to forget that life is not all sunshine and jelly beans.

Aside from “Helicopter,” every song does seem to be the medium for at least a subtle message. “Raid the Radio” combines copious amounts of melancholy with an off-the-shelf call to action as generic as they come. Lyrical advice ranges from changing the channel to screaming and shouting to calling the station until they play “songs we can dream about.” Who knows where “this town” is or what “same old song” they are referencing, but who cares? Apply this song to any social injustice or political argument you’d like. Regardless, it’s a keeper, thanks in part to the tinges of optimism that sneak onto the track via bouts of cheerful whistling. That means it will all be okay, right?

And “Rebel Sun” addresses the water war in Bolivia in 2000, though you’d never know it. Notably, this track gives us our first taste of Salters’ self-proclaimed, rule-breaking mindset by combining deep subject matter with a sugary, sweet beat and cheerful vocals. Ironically, it’s the last song on the record.

The verdict? At the end of the day, Good City for Dreamers fell short of my lofty expectations but did not totally disappoint. The musical aptitude Salters exhibits is a force not even lackluster lyrics can reckon with.

Tagged as: Berkeley, California

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