Vinyl Vault

When her record company showed indifference, former ‘Til Tuesday lead singer Aimee Mann took her 3rd solo album away from them and sold it on the Internet. The resulting fuss and then inclusion of Mann’s songs in the movie Magnolia eventually led to a new deal to distribute the album, and the critical acclaim for Bachelor No. 2 – Or, The Last Remains of the Dodo was immediate and fawning. Now, 10 years after the fact, it’s a perfect time to look back at Mann’s opus, via a song-by-song review.

Bachelor No. 2 (2000, Superego)

Side A

  A1. “How Am I Different”
A chunky, slow rhythm is a low-key intro to the album, but soon Mann’s piercing voice takes over, crystalline yet wounded. Mann’s clever lyrics work both as a one-on-one inquisition of a fickle lover, but they also hint at betrayals on a grander scale. The closing salvo, delivered amidst swirling guitars, proves she’s no shrinking violet: “Just one question before I pack/When you fuck it later do I get my money back?”

  A2. “Nothing Is Good Enough”
Something tells me that some record-company execs’ ears were burning as Mann sang this song, delivered in a voice that seems to have gotten beyond anger and settled on bemused disappointment. Heartbreaker Benmont Tench provides the distinctive keyboards, from the plaintive piano chords in the verses to the circus-like organ in the refrains and bridge. Just a sampling of the incisive lyrics: “It doesn’t really help that you can never say what you’re looking for/But you’ll know it when you hear it, know it when you see it walk through the door.”

  A3. “Red Vines”
The production here is typically inventive, elevating an elusive tale which seems to depict someone in over their head with distinguished company. The chorus is especially fine.

  A4. “The Fall Of The World’s Optimist”
Considering the nimble wordplay and eloquent rancor on display here, it’s no surprise that this gem was co-written with Elvis Costello. Mann’s vocal helps to soften some of the sarcasm that could have overrun the proceedings.

  A5. “Satellite”
Mann name-checks Burt Bacharach in a later song on the album, and this gorgeous ballad is a worthy musical tribute to the master of 60’s heartbreak-pop. Mann’s lyrics aren’t as easily parsed as some of those straightforward 60’s hits, but they are worth the effort, poetically treading through the shrapnel of a broken relationship.

  A6. “Deathly”
The opening lines (“Now that I’ve met you/Would you object to/Never seeing each other again”) were immortalized in Magnolia, but this song never quite sets sail, weighed down by a sloggy pace.

Side B

  B1. “Ghost World”
Mann effortlessly slips into the skin of a disaffected teenager (albeit one smart enough to describe a moon as “gibbous”) whose post-high school choices are more limited than she might want to admit. As she sings in the shimmering chorus: “Then I’m bailing this town/Or tearing it down/Or probably more like hanging around.”

  B2. “Calling It Quits”
The sqounky horn-like effects are a bit distracting, and Mann’s lyrics here are more impressive on paper than affecting when sung.

  B3. “Driving Sideways”
Mann shows her way with a metaphor in this tale of a relationship that never makes any progress. Brendan O’Brien, now known as one of the top hard-rock producers in the business, gets a production credit and shows he knows how to finesse more delicate material.

  B4. “Just Like Anyone”
At under two minutes this is barely a fragment, but what a pretty fragment it is. Mann mourns a lost friend via a beautifully sad melody embellished by a weeping violin.

  B5. “Susan”
This one also sneaks up on you, unassuming in the verses before bursting into a catchy chorus that’s tinged with melancholy. Extra points for the “Dear Prudence”-style guitar fadeout.

  B6. “It Takes All Kinds”
Mann seems to sum up all of the hurt that’s been sprinkled throughout the album and imbue it into this killer ballad, co-written with Jon Brion. Balancing almost evenly between her own sadness and her bewilderment at what a former friend and lover has become, Mann finally lets loose the clichéd title refrain as both the futile expression of her exasperation and the ultimate indictment of this guy’s behavior.

  B7. “You Do”
It ambles along amiably enough, although it’s somewhat of a muted ending, lacking the melodic flair and lyrical ingenuity found elsewhere.

The Bottom Line

Mann continues to churn out great solo work ten years after this landmark, but the circumstances surrounding Bachelor No. 2 seemed to provide her with the ideal inspiration for such a profoundly impressive collection of songs. It should be on every music fan’s rainy-day playlist.

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