Marxy is the solo venture of freelance writer W. David Marx. He is an American living Japan. Early last year he released a stellar debut record, Kyoshu Nostalgia, though at less than twenty minutes, we’re stretching it with “album.” Both Elbo.ws and Hype Machine report no results found, which nowadays, is really saying something. The record roots itself deeply in ‘60s pop melodies and sentiments. But Marxy avoids the overtly pastiche by singing a good portion of this record in Japanese, by incorporating a garage sale’s worth of idiosyncratic samples, and by switching gears within songs almost instantaneously—all under three minutes tops. Think The Fiery Furnaces lost in Tokyo in 1967. And yes, it’s as awesome as it sounds.
“Neoplasticism vs. de Stijl” doesn’t have much to do with either. Rather it’s Marxy lamenting the fact that he’s lost touch with a girl because he “didn’t want to take it slow”—a sentiment that’s mirrored by his music. At its outset the song quickly speeds from choir vocals to Super Nintendo percussion backed by a three-note guitar line and rapid handclapping. It may sound like something any garage band in the world could drum up, but not many garage bands in any hemisphere have Dave Marx’s voice. The first verse quickly builds itself up to a flourish of ravaged drums, synth swirls, a little harder guitar and then back again. The rest of the song is introduced to female backing vocals and many other bursts, and though Marxy bemoans his lost girl, the sonics suggest otherwise. They move on rather quickly, and it seems as if he’s looking back upon the one that got away with a wistful smile and a thought of “Oh, what could have been.”
“We Will Not Be Sold” is soaked in Beach Boys young and in love ethos. The track’s one minute and fifty-two seconds are masterfully layered: Horn stabs, piano plinks, and guitar scribbles come at all angles. The chorus here is powered by what seems to be an actual chorus and its “We won’t be taken / Or forsaken / We cannot be sold” / ”Until we’re olden / We’re golden / And have all the things we’ve ever wanted” trade-off with Marxy could double as this album’s rallying cry. It’s all really, really awesome, but the real fun starts at the 30 second mark when Marxy infiltrates your stream of consciousness with quick, disjointed snips of his signature sounds.
Kyoshu Nostalgia, triumphs in expertly updating diner-era pop by fusing it with elements it has rarely, if ever, been exposed to. And what seems rather simple at face value reveals itself to be heartfelt, calculated, and complex. The feelings are universal and so is the music. Literally.
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