Records: Barry Black's Tragic Animal Stories

By Grant McClintock and Flynn Eckenrode

Chapel Hill, North Carolina is a residential glut of some of the most formidable musical acts this side of the Canadian border. Superchunk, Squirell Nut Zippers, and those unstoppable, indomitable Archers of Loaf are among just a few of the talented bands who call this picturesque southern college town home.

Add to this list that shady and remarkable musical impresario: Barry Black, the pseudonymous alter-ego of Archers songwriter Eric Bachmann.

Tragic Animal Stories is the second release by Barry Black in two years, and both Stories and 1995's eponymous debut bear a similar cast in consistency and sound. Bachmann's knack for orchestral pop stylings indicates the threading influence of Tom Waits. This is as much a compliment as a starting point for Bachmann. His compositions and spontaneuous collaborations take Waits' instinct for non-traditional instrumentation, weave them around a poignant melody, and create a unique stylistic blend that our grandchildren will someday refer to as "vintage."

The album opens with the hauntingly melodic "The Horrible Truth About Plankton," which features a tuba, two trombones and a vibraphone playing with clever ease and ironic familiarity. There is a European folk influence throughout "Iditarod Sled Dogs," a cello-laden swell in "When Sharks Smell Blood," and a nostalgic and playful feel to "Slow Loris' Lament" that is exquisitely reminiscent of background music from an episode of Reading Rainbow.

"Tragic Animal Stories" is basically an instrumental record, in clear contrast to both the bulk of Archer's material and to Barry Black's 1995 release, which included a small selection of songs with lyrics. But new albums (and excess free time) do bring new ideas. "I do spend a lot of time with words," Bachmann says in a press release, "not necessarily what they mean, but the way they sound against the music." And this interest is clearly reflected in the stunning "Tropical Fish Revival," the lone track on which Bachmann sings; there are few words, but no discernible lyrics, just Bachmann's vocalizations expertly layered atop a rich aural and rhythmic field.

In the end, this is an extremely varied yet surprisingly consistent album. While there is nothing worse than a crappy instrumental album, Bachmann's creative impulses behind Barry Black seems born not of self-indulgence but rather from an intense and overwhelming desire to create and experiment with musical forms in interesting and provocative ways. All hail the (Barry) Black market!

Back to A & E...