MUSIC REVIEWS
Gnarls Barkley - St. Elsewhere
David Allun Jones
Andre 3000 may have got the whole wide world shaking it like a Polaroid picture on the genre-less piece of infectiousness that was “Hey Ya”, but in his own private way, Cee-Lo has built a whole career out of concocting similar freaky conceptions. From his stand-out contributions as one-fourth of the Southern rap collective Goodie Mob to a marvelous solo career that birthed the loose, soul/ funk shoulda-smashed “Closet Freak” to his part as the songwriter and producer behind last year’s sleaziest dishing of Paisley Park nastiness with “Don’t Cha”, if anyone deserves credit for being the most daring Black artist this side of Prince it should be Cee-Lo. On his latest ambitious move, the roly-poly man’s thrilling combination of Al Green gospel-soul, P-Funk imagination, Bob Dylan folksiness and Lauryn Hill intellect latches on to the bedrock obscure samples of blogger fave Danger Mouse to form Gnarls Barkley, 2006’s most off-the-wall pleasure.
Sounding like the work of two maniacal scientists holed up in some haunted mansion somewhere, the spooky terrains of St. Elsewhere brings a listener into the act’s delirious state of mind. Like a soundtrack to an asylum, Cee-Lo’s mournful beltings and psychologically stirring lyrics offer a portal to the darkened corners of his soul, accented with gloomy background harmonies and psychedelic kitchen sink productions that bear as much weight as the despairing themes they describe.
The album’s adored centerpiece lies in the magnificent single, “Crazy”, a bedazzling look at the thoughts of a man seemingly at glee as he veers off the path of the sane (“I remember when I lost my mind/ There was something so special about that place”). Thanks to the production’s amazing capturing of Cee-Lo’s personal hell, complete with the rubbery clockwork plucking of the bass and soaring strings straight out some classic science fiction film, you can’t blame the man for not wanting to ever be sucked back into the reality he descended from. And like a crazed Mad Hatter, he laughs at the thought that we might think we’re impervious to a similar fate (“You really think you’re in control?/ I think you’re crazy just like me”).
A deeper look into Gnarls’ torturous head space brings to light even more creepy statements. An intense study of self-reflection on “The Boogie Monster”, dalliances with suicide on the Reznor-like nightmare that is “Just A Thought” and even the exploration of necrophilia under the war of synthesizers and electric guitars that dominate “Necromancer”. Interestingly, as close as Cee-Lo comes to the edge of reason, there’s a hopeful glow to his voice, as if he knows that in the end everything will be alright. That touch of spiritual grace in constant battle with the gothic soundtracks that flood the album provide a balance of good and evil that’s unnervingly miraculous, completely summing up the eccentric sound that is Gnarls Barkley.
Many will toss the album off as artsy silliness, and for the most part, they will be right. Several moments arrive where it looks like the duo have crossed the line from musical geniuses to novices who are in way over their head. Especially after the inspired first half gives way to a slew of spacey tunes towards the end that dwindle in interest. But the mesmerizing gall with which they accomplish their highlight points makes even the filler material something to admire after repeated listens. If nothing else, few acts have announced their arrival and purpose with such defiance as Gnarls Barkley do on St. Elsewhere, which deserves some props, even if you can’t help but look at them as some quirky hip hop-soul-opera take off of The Munsters.
