John Linnell and John Flansburgh have by now been working together for 20 years. Although their distinctive brand of quirky pop has never enjoyed crossover appeal, the duo have nonetheless managed to carve out a niche for themselves, planting their flag firmly in terrain explored only by such fearless voyagers as Randy Newman, Ben Folds Five and, at a push, Primus.
The Spine doesn’t exactly represent a radical overhaul of their long-established blueprint; a smattering of oddball harmonising here, a sprinkling of Lennon-u-like echoing refrain there, all topped off by jaunty guitar work and sunny, feelgood melodies. Still, while the album may not mark a departure in their modus operandi, TMBG have such a singular approach to songwriting, and the two Johns collaborative instincts are so finely honed at this stage, that The Spine emerges as an enjoyable if slightly uneven 50 minutes’ entertainment.
The strongest tracks, ‘Experimental Film’, ‘Au Contraire’ and ‘Museum Of Idiots’ are all splendidly executed slices of upbeat pop, with the lyrics taking on the form of acutely observed lyrical vignettes. Elsewhere, 30-second interludes like ‘Spine’ and its pluralised sequel ‘Spines’ provide a couple of arresting diversions and give the album a nice storybook atmosphere (a vibe complimented by the warped cartoon illustrations on the cover and inside sleeve).
In the debit column, the formula gets a bit stretched towards the finish line and a slightly more ruthless approach in the editing department might have seen one or two of the 16 tracks discarded. Overall, though, this is an impressively accomplished collection from Messrs Linnell and Flansburgh. Who knows, the geeks might yet inherit the earth.