GutterPutter

22 LPs in, John Darnielle is enjoying life as the frontman of his project – the Mountain Goats. He is regarded as one of the very best singer-songwriters due to his love for concept albums and intertwined links between his songs. In fact, he would often use his prowess to write three novels with general positive reactions. Among the examples of such include 2005’s The Sunset Tree which tackles his past as an abused son, 2015’s Beat the Champ with the story about wrestling, and 2019’s In Leagues with Dragons that’s inspired by his hobby as a Dungeons and Dragons player. Rarely does he release a record that doesn’t have a coherent concept with 2021’s Dark in Here being one of those examples.

For all the praise he receives, few could quite compare to Darnielle’s breakthrough in 2002’s All Hail West Texas. To many of his fans, this marked the end of his days as a slightly notable folk artist who records his songs out of his ageing boombox as he finally gets connections with a couple of musicians to fill in his songs. The fabled description of the record as being “fourteen songs about seven people, two houses, a motorcycle, and a locked treatment facility for adolescent boys” is both open-ended and clear in the narrative. Many still see it as his masterpiece thanks to the minimalistic, authentic charisma that he exudes in telling his stories. 

When Jenny from Thebes was first announced, there were expectations built when the premise was explained in full. For the more casual listeners, the titular Jenny was a recurring character who first appeared in All Hail West Texas whose lifestyle as a biker in Southwestern America is a target of affection. There’s a kind of mystique around her as her later appearance in an EP Jam Eater Blues and 2012 LP Transcendent Youth portrays her as an idyllic image of the carefree “pirate’s life”, someone who’s a vague image that’s romanticised to remember the time of utmost freedom. When you have your most recent record be about your character who, until now, serves more as a symbol than as an entity, it can be difficult to see how you flesh them out in full.

Sadly, Jenny from Thebes didn’t strike the same level of bittersweetness as the very album their protagonist got her start from. For one, Darnielle sees his recent work as a rock opera on talking about the intro track ‘Clean Slate’ to Stereogum. To establish the narrative in a far clearer sense can have its own risk; the seeming confirmation that Jenny’s shack was used to shelter travellers as aligned in West Texas’s ‘Color in Your Cheeks’ dispels the free-flowing association that fans might have enjoyed. The first-person perspective that’s surrounded by the orchestral instrumentation offers a bombast that is pleasant to listen to. Yet, such an aspect undercuts the intimacy that enables the more personal connection. This problem can be felt as well in ‘Fresh Tattoo’ and ‘Same as Cash’ where the cellos neuter the apparent tension within the story.

Elaborating further on, the plotline lacks the certain ‘kick’ given that, spoiler alert, the big twist is that Jenny had got herself involved in killing as an easy solution. Outside of the chamber orchestra, the album’s main genre is soft rock where the more lowkey mixing and performance continue to downplay the reality of murder and a Bonnie and Clyde-esque romance. While that means that the general vibe in ‘Cleaning Crew’ and ‘Ground Level’ is sophisticatedly soothing, it doesn’t work as well in ‘Only One Way’, ‘Water Tower, and ‘Jenny III’. Respectively, we’re treated with the foreshadowing of Jenny’s moral downfall, the investigation around bodies, and her implied final murder. It’s the kind of lyrical dissonance that pans out in a way that doesn’t come off as subversively catchy if we’re thinking of Arcade Fire or Foster the People. It’s the kind that meanders instead with the lack of vibrancy so the payoff doesn’t feel as impactful as it could’ve been. It doesn’t carry the emotive energy to let the contrast work.

The complaints listed up to now shouldn’t be used to dismiss Jenny from Thebes as some kind of parvum opus. It’s John Darnielle we’re talking about after all and even after around thirty years’ worth of writing music, he still possesses the literary charm. ‘Murder at the 18th St. Garage’ puts into perspective the frantic wish for one of Jenny’s victims to be avenged and the upbeat rock performance works a lot better to match the rage. ‘Going to Dallas’ marks the moment where the lyrical dissonance works in execution as the main focus is on Jenny’s seeming indefinite life as a hermit from her life of crime. There’s a kind of skill worth recognising in making you sympathise for someone who’s a mass murderer by the end. With that, ‘Great Pirates’ is the suitable ending with a callback to the very track that introduces Jenny even if it’s sombre. “Carry what I need to carry / Bury what I have to bury,” sang Darnielle to mark Jenny’s newfound life as a wanderer through repetition and rhymes, “Dancing, whistling, singing, past the cemetery”.

Jenny from Thebes is, in my opinion, arguably one of the weaker albums in the Mountain Goats’ discography. While Darnielle’s lyricism as usual is sharp and perceptive in carving a coherent tale, it is the instrumentation that puts the risk of sterilising the emotional weight whether it be through bloated instruments or awkward dissonance. If you’re going to listen to a record purely as an alternative to reading literature, then this album is more than likely up your alley. Hope for a bit more and you might not get the tip as to what makes people like the Mountain Goats. If you’re getting into the band or if you otherwise have little idea on who Jenny is, this might not be the best album to start yourself on. It’s better to tune in to All Hail West Texas, sit yourself by the fireplace, and listen to ‘Jenny’ as the withering guitar strums allude to the past that might not have matched up to reality.

2.1/5