Audio Mixers: Tom Rogers; Stephin Merritt; Charles Newman.

Recording information: Mother West, NY.

Photographer: Marcelo Krasilcic.

From the beginning, every Magnetic Fields album has had a specific musical or thematic concept: for example, 1991's DISTANT PLASTIC TREES was a tribute to synth minimalists Young Marble Giants, 1994's THE CHARM OF THE HIGHWAY STRIP was influenced by country-music road songs, and of course 1999's 69 LOVE SONGS was self-explanatory. DISTORTION, as the title suggests, is a glorious mess of feedback, surface noise, and other forms of distortion that sounds like a throwback to singer-songwriter and mastermind Stephin Merritt's indie-rock roots, before his later incarnation as a generational answer to Irving Berlin's pop classicism. The songs themselves are highly reminiscent of the early Magnetic Fields; "California Girls" and "Old Fools" in particular sound like they would have fit nicely on any of the group's early records. However, the staticky howl of the production, more in keeping with the likes of My Bloody Valentine or even Sonic Youth, might surprise old fans at first. Stephin Merritt has never made an album like DISTORTION before, and given his track record, he likely never will again.

Stephin Merritt celebrates all that is fuzzy, sexy, and drenched in reverb on Distortion, a 13-track rendering of the Jesus and Mary Chain's Psychocandy through the barbed sieve of the Magnetic Fields mastermind's seemingly endless notebook of relationship dos and don'ts and self-effacing cognitive therapy sessions. The unwavering decision to match the production with the album title is admirable, but one that will no doubt filter out the listeners who rely on Merritt's simple, clean melodicism to reel them in. By mirroring the lo-fi sunshine goth aesthetic that the Reid brothers so effortlessly beat into the ground in the mid- to late '80s, Distortion becomes more about style than substance, often burying the lyrics in an avalanche of mud that clings to each instrument (be it cello, Farfisa organ, accordion, or guitar) like pet hair on a pea coat. That said, patience rewards those who stick around for the credits, and acclimation to the pounding (yet still sweet) industrial landscapes comes about eight songs in with the instant classic "Too Drunk to Dream," a vintage Fields rave-up that launches out of a Gregorian-style intro that boldly proclaims "Sober, life is a prison/Shitfaced, it is a blessing/Sober, nobody wants you/Shitfaced, they're all undressing." It's a double-sided hook that clears the murkiness from the remaining five tracks, while simultaneously improving the first half (especially tracks like "California Girls" and "Please Stop Dancing") when spun for a second or third time. As usual, Merritt doles out vocal duties like handbills, making the whole affair feel a little more like a 6ths production rather than a Magnetic Fields event, and Shirley Simms, who lent her lovely pipes to 69 Love Songs and 2006's Showtunes, provides the album with many of its finest moments, specifically the infectious "Drive on, Driver" and the lovely closer, "Courtesans." In the end, though, even Simms' impossibly fluid voice can't cut through all of the noise. In some ways, it feels like a step backward, and even if that was the intention, it's disappointing to climb Distortion's many lovely peaks, only to be obscured by clouds. ~ James Christopher Monger