The James Logan Courier

By Eric Brown, Courier Music Editor
The supergroup is a volatile entity. Whether one chooses to look at the ensembles formed by jazz titans in the 1950’s and 60’s or collaborations of a more modern bent, bands composed of various famous musicians rarely meet their expectations. The occasional supergroup, such as famous Eric Clapton project Cream, enjoys success and prospers, but for the most part supergroups collapse quickly due to infighting or simply fail to produce good music.


On their eponymous September debut album, Monsters of Folk, formed by Conor Oberst and Mike Mogis (Bright Eyes), M. Ward (She & Him), and Yim Yames (My Morning Jacket) sidesteps at least one supergroup hazard, the pitfall of mediocrity. Using subtle production, true collaboration, and their undeniable individual talents, Monsters of Folk has developed a nuanced and masterful work of art.

Monsters of Folk begins with a Yames track, “Dear God (Sincerely M.O.F.)” that presents a radical new interpretation of folk music. Over a nearly hip-hop rhythm track and an unexpected (but excellent) harp sample Yames enters with the pseudo-soul falsetto that has brought My Morning Jacket fame. “Dear God” quickly introduces Yames shifting to his resonant lower register, bringing profundity to the song’s lyrics, which call into question God’s intentions (“I know I’m thinking aloud/But if your love’s still around why do we suffer?”). The following Marvin Gaye styled keyboard interlude and folky electric guitar trip close out this superb tone-setting opening track; after experiencing “Dear God (Sincerely M.O.F.) it is evident Monsters of Folk isn’t a leisurely pursuit, it’s a work that warrants serious lyrical and musical appreciation.

To say that from the second track on Monsters of Folk is scattered would be an understatement, but for once in popular music variation is used skillfully and artistically. The album vacillates between lively traditional folk jaunts, such as Oberst’s animated “Say Please” and Yames’ saloon toned “The Right Place”, and contemplative (though rarely dark) gems such as Ward’s “Slow Down Jo” and Oberst’s “Temazcal”. What makes Monsters of Folk such a phenomenal record however, are the non-folk elements the band chooses to interject. Some songs fall into neither the traditional nor contemplative category, and can border on bluegrass (“Man Named Truth”), alternative rock (“Losin Yo Head”), or even religious (“His Master’s Voice”). The unique flares Monsters of Folk employ aid them in making a truly new product.

“Say Please” is one of the better quick songs on the record. Oberst’s writing is at its prime (as it is on the whole album) and the track flows seamlessly. The dichotomy between folk guitars and a raucous blues guitar solo is one that is used multiple times on Monsters of Folk and is an excellent creative gesture. “The Right Place” and “Losin Yo Head” are both frenetic efforts by Yames that anchor the album. These two songs feature some of the most adventurous instrumentation on the album (presumably spearheaded by Mogis), from harpsichord and synthesizers on the former to wah wah effects that allude to George Harrison’s style. Other quick highlights of Monsters of Folk include Ward’s Orbison-like “Whole Lotta Losin’” and “Baby Boomer”, where all three vocalists trade verses like weathered storytellers.

Nuance is important on the fast tracks (how else could the aforementioned qualities function?) but is utilized even more brilliantly in the slow songs on the album. “Slow Down Jo” is easily Ward’s best contribution to the album, featuring Ward’s dark and slow vocals with only a plain acoustic guitar accompaniment. Later a plaintive steel guitar emerges in the background, a wisely placed production gem that cements the track’s beauty and grace. The song sounds like a hybrid between the best of Yames’ and Oberst’s styles; the fact it is a Ward song serves as a reminder of the true collaboration that occurred during the sessions. Two Oberst masterpieces, “Temazcal” and “Ahead of the Curve” function as the other emotional centers of Monsters of Folk. “Temazcal” is a haunted reflection (“The love we made at gunpoint wasn’t love at all.”) that uses precise imagery to conjure the picture of a dusky night on a Southwestern plain.

The album closes with a glorious Yames’ track “His Master’s Voice” that uses grandiose instrumentation and harmonies to conclude the album with style and suspense. After the final chord ceases to echo, the assortment of ideas put forth on Monsters of Folk begins to take effect. One might think back to the lilting “Ahead of the Curve”, where Oberst declares “I’m not carefree/I’m free to care, I just never do.” One can only wonder what Oberst is referring to, since Monsters of Folk is clearly the work of four brilliant men who have devoted their lives to creating extraordinary music.