Heavy eyes, the beating sun, and the open road: as the nascent waves of “Rugby Child” roll in, my mind always wanders back to these shots. This expressiveness is not unique to “Rugby Child.” Rather, it defines Death Jokes, the wonderfully evocative new album by Amen Dunes, or singer-songwriter Damon McMahon’s musical project.
The first thing that struck me was McMahon’s voice. It finds power without breath, quavering with a controlled tremor—a cross between a croon and a bass synth. He sings of love and death, usually in the same song, with tones of serenity. Yet, his delivery is swathed in sincere understanding for the characters sketched out in his vignettes. Whenever I’m unsure if I want to commit to listening to the whole nine minutes of “Round the World,” I’m immediately convinced as soon as I hear the opening couplet: “Made up my mind / Give up on you.” The inflection hovering between resignation and reassurance projects a long shadow of history behind those eight words.
Amazingly, McMahon’s voice never outshines the rest of the composition. Instead, it blends in as one of Death Jokes’ countless propulsive instruments, creating a cadenced lushness facilitated by prominent percussion, electronic manipulation, and unbounded sampling. In “I Don’t Mind,” for instance, piano chords, drum beats, cut-in samples, and sharp jabs of guitar puncture the song as they alternate, while a rotating cast of drums jump between tempo changes in “Rugby Child.”
Amen Dunes incorporates untraditional rhythms to defy artistic expectations. In McMahon’s eyes, conventional forms of rhythm facilitated by computer-generated percussion reflect the standardizing effects of digital technology—the way the internet confines life to a flattened existence. Death Jokes is Amen Dunes’ alternative. It is the open road, it is the beating sun, and it is the sprawl of life.
Olivia Zhao is a sophomore majoring in Business & Global Affairs. She is co-Reviews Editor for the INDY.
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