The Magnetic Fields, spearheaded by the prolific Stephin Merritt, are known for their witty lyrics and eclectic musical styles. Following their album Get Lost, which hinted at a more refined and simpler approach, 69 Love Songs emerges as a bold statement, expanding on this trend while simultaneously defying expectations. Merritt masterfully avoids sonic monotony throughout this extensive collection by sharing vocal duties with four other singers and employing an astonishing array of instruments. Listeners can expect to hear everything from ukuleles and banjos to accordions, cellos, mandolins, pianos, flutes, and guitars of various types, alongside synthesizers, effects, and a plethora of percussion instruments.
Image: The album cover for The Magnetic Fields’ “69 Love Songs”, showcasing a simple yet iconic design that reflects the album’s vast and varied musical landscape.
Dissecting each of the 69 tracks on this album could indeed be a monumental task. 69 Love Songs acts as a prism, refracting the multifaceted nature of love into a spectrum of emotions and exploring the very definition of a “love song” across a diverse range of musical forms. The album showcases a remarkable breadth, moving from a dysfunctional duet reminiscent of Sonny and Cher in “Yeah! Oh Yeah!” to the country-gospel infused musings on love, both sacred and profane, in “Kiss Me Like You Mean It.” It even delves into humorous narratives, such as the soldier’s hazy recollection of a drunken encounter in “The Night You Can’t Remember.”
The emotional and stylistic range is breathtaking. Listeners are treated to the playful flirtation of “Let’s Pretend We’re Bunny Rabbits,” the poignant yearning in “Come Back from San Francisco,” and the almost unsettling voyeurism of “Underwear.” The album doesn’t shy away from darker themes, exploring resignation and heartbreak in tracks like “No One Will Ever Love You.” Merritt also expertly navigates various genre exercises, including the cool jazz vibes of “Love is Like Jazz,” the Paul Simon-esque world music influences in “World Love,” and the baroque pop of “For We are the King of the Boudoir,” channeling Gilbert and Sullivan. Further demonstrating his versatility, Merritt offers a cartoonish punk rock interpretation with “Punk Love,” dips into Scottish folk with “Wi’ Nae Wee Bairn Ye’ll Me Beget,” and even provides a nod to minimalist composer Philip Glass in the brief “Experimental Music Love.” Fans of The Magnetic Fields will also find familiar ground in songs that bear the band’s signature hallmarks: Merritt’s characteristically dry and dramatic vocals, lyrics laced with casual melancholy, and clever, often intricate rhymes. However, 69 Love Songs also reveals Merritt’s capacity for genuine, touching ballads, exemplified in tracks like “Busby Berkeley Dreams” and the widely acclaimed “The Book of Love.”
Ultimately, 69 Love Songs is an album where the collective impact is precisely the sum of its numerous parts. Each song is a self-contained gem, a miniature exploration of love in its myriad forms. Yet, the sheer scope of the project prevents any single, overarching revelation. The concept itself is almost too grand to be fully grasped in one sitting; it’s an immersive experience best appreciated by getting lost in the individual songs. While a comprehensive understanding of 69 Love Songs as a singular entity might remain elusive, The Magnetic Fields have undeniably delivered on their promise: 69 distinct and compelling love songs, making the album a worthwhile investment for any discerning music lover.
