adam green - sixes & sevens

Sixes and Sevens is surely worthy of being Green’s Magnum Opus; it’s packed with delightful anti-folk, and full to the brim with those preciously whimsical lyrics that we’ve come to expect from him by now. At a staggering 20 tracks, this is Adam Green’s musical equivalent of War and Peace - although you do wonder how a turkey this stuffed could taste a tad weak at times. You couldn’t dare suggest he hasn’t challenged himself. The opening track itself presents a rarity; singing. Green emulates his look-alike chum Julian Casablancas by smothering the vocals in distortion so we can only vaguely tell there’s a key changes in there somewhere. Elsewhere, those craving the singer’s bittersweet touch won’t be disappointed; it’s still as sharp as ever, and even lends itself to gospel on ‘Broadcast Beach’. In Adam Green’s mind there’s no such thing as genre - and if there is he’ll hunt it down and sever it at the roots. For example, ‘Twee Dee Dee’ is a stomping funk song before Green enters with his razor sharp lyrics, cutting open every last violin string. Bluesy anthem ‘Cannot Get Slicker’ simply couldn’t get slicker, while ‘Sticky Ricki’ sounds like it was composed for a film noir puppet show: it’s so confidently mysterious it’ll charm you like a snake. The new single ‘Morning after Midnight’ brilliantly recalls ’60s Motown at the community centre, and is full of an ironic optimism that contrasts heavily with some of Green‘s darker lyrics: “Hey things wont be strange anymore now / Hey things wont be bad all the time now”. It even has a Cha Cha Cha in it, ladies and gents. Inevitably with such a mammoth of an album there are a couple of samey songs that could’ve been fused together with others, and sometimes it feels as though Green has treated the album like a musical scrapbook. But what’s a Magnum Opus without a couple of fillers? I bet the Philosopher’s Stone has a few dents in it too.