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Feller
Quentin: I Am Not a Monster
San Francisco is not known for psychotic folk if one excuses Feller Quentin and his strange new album. This reviewer would much sooner expect his music to rise from the mud-cracked banks of the middle Mississippi. I Am Not A Monster is a frankly astounding juggle of sounds and twisted lyrics, all from the hands and mouth of one man. A feat, to be sure, but this reviewer was more irritated than amazed by the occasional darkness and rambling nonsense that Quentin throws out on his latest release. I Am Not A Monster swings like a metronome between marijuana haze psycho-folk and rambling, Southern gothic violence. Its a strange pendulum to ride. Quentin is an accomplished musician, though, and the arrangements of his classic folk repertoire are excellent. The opening track I Wont Stop Killing Birds is dark and violent; though Quentin sings Im on top of the world, he follows this encouragement with the titular statement and then something about the stench of rotting skin. Charming. Quentins voice has some of the drawling, stony quality of Jack Whites, though he lightens considerably on the next tracks, which seem to poke at the notion of god and the devil, heaven and hell (Bottom of A Well, Invocation). Then, swiftly leaving most of the darkness behind except for occasional low rumbles and minor-key string arrangements Quentin jumps with both feet into the realm of nonsense. The rest of the album is composed of drugged lyrical ballads about camels, flies (A love song to a fly? Honestly.), amputees, and one entire track that is nothing but shuffled cards run through a sampler. Admittedly, this reviewer has little patience for nonsense. I believe there is quite enough nonsense thanks to those masters of craft, Gorey and Lear. However, if you see art where I see only drivel, please feel free to explore I Am Not a Monster. The banjo, cello, drums, mandolin, and guitar (all played by Quentin) are very good, especially paired with his soft twang of a voice; the melodies are simple, sweet and smooth. Its quite clear that Feller Quentin is not a monster, but likes to sing of them and I for one have quite enough nonsense in my life without adding weird little tales of dead birds, hard-done-by camels, and poker-playing dogs to my waking dreams.
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