Send "Cass McCombs " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 Say it quickly, eliding the r's that cap the end of the first word and the beginning of the second, and the title of Cass McCombs' second full-length this year becomes Humoresque-- a genre of Romantic-period classical music that favored lyrical, mood-based expressions intended to be funny. As a title, Humor Risk functions as a sort of riddle, one where the answer comes quickly but you still feel silly for not getting it earlier. McCombs probably prefers it that way. In a rare, cagey interview with Pitchfork's Ryan Dombal, he defended the grim and elegantly dark WIT'S END: "You can't just explain a joke, can you? Either it isn't funny, or the person just totally missed the punchline."To be fair, that record did have a punchline or two buried beneath its incessant gloom. But McCombs' work has never really been expressively funny, and by his standards, Humor Risk is something of a laugh riot. There's a hapless drug deal that ends in murder (reminiscent of Silver Jews' also-pretty-funny "San Francisco, B.C."), a philosophical discussion on the nature of beauty in a mannequin factory, and a domestic ghost story that may or may not compare California to a mythical, fire-breathing creature. Another topic raised in that interview is McCombs' reclusive nature and his penchant for personal privacy, which in the Internet age, fairly or not, seems like an unusual character trait. Since we don't know much about McCombs, save for his fascination with death and that he's lived as a nomad for most of his life, it's unclear whether his reservations about giving away personal details are due to something darker within him, or an intent to lend mystique and character to an otherwise relatively normal nomadic singer/songwriter type. Either way, McCombs isn't any more ready to reveal himself on Humor Risk; he delivers many of the lyrics to "The Living Word", a meditation on personal and universal spirituality, in a warm half-mutter that requires a lyric book to truly comprehend what he's saying. Religion is a touchy topic for McCombs, and here, even when he's embracing a somewhat positive message of universal existence on "The Living Word" and "The Same Thing", he's reluctant to say too much....full text |
| Pastemagazine |
| It’s easy to say that so many singer-songwriters are introspective and write painfully honest lyrics, but sometimes an easy explanation is all that is needed. Cass McCombs’ latest album Humor Risk, falls into that category and almost perfectly exemplifies it, but it also manages to stretch what is expected of him. Like on his previous efforts, McCombs employs a series of thorough lyrics that are explored through his own voice doubling up on harmonies. There is also a sense of urgency that manages not to rush any of the instrumentation. Instead it’s as if he is in slow motion regardless of how fast paced everything around him is. On Humor Risk, McCombs not only takes a look at himself, but explores lifestyles and cultural aspects of others in society. It’s this new dynamic that shifts the record into something much more diverse than he previously attempted. Musically McCombs has managed to play homage to 1960s pop songwriting without sounding stale. There are songs that sound like lost tracks written by George Harrison, focusing on guitar melodies that sound simple but have a single note that makes them anything but. “The Same Thing” and “Mystery Mail” are two songs that fall into this category, but they’re only the tip of the iceberg....full text |
| Obscuresound |
| Cass McCombs’ second full-length of 2011, Humor Risk, is an ace-in-the-hole for anyone arguing that McCombs’ delivery is “classic”, as in a singer-songwriting with a dominating presence who combines lyrical idiosyncrasy with a stylish smorgasbord of sounds from the past. In McCombs’ case on Humor Risk, he turns the sparsely somber romanticism on this year’s Wit’s End into a breezier and bouncier replication. Here, his deliveries of folk, jangle-pop, and southern-tinged rock are heralded by delicate tempos and buoyant melodies. Electric guitars and percussion are instrumentally dominant, unlike the emphasis on keys, acoustics, and makeshift kitchen appliances featured throughout Wit’s End. Efforts like “To Every Man His Chimera” and “Mariah” provide the dose of brooding melancholy that McCombs fans have come to expect, but Humor Risk is otherwise more lighthearted and repetitive than its slightly elder sibling. In separating the two, it is hardly surprising that the lyrical wit of McCombs came up with something like this: “Wit’s End is like a stew; Humor Risk is the raw food diet.” Wit’s End was a very gradually crafted release, at least by McCombs’ prolific standards; its origins date back to 2009. Humor Risk is another story. It was written in the span of a few months, but its flaws have nothing to do with feeling rushed. Ironically, it feels overly elongated at some points. Producer Ariel Rechtshaid aided with both Wit’s End and Humor Risk, in addition to Catacombs, so it’s not as if listeners should expect any dramatic alterations on the production front. The McCombs-Rechtshaid team has already mastered the approach, so all rests on the songwriting – just how the famously direct McCombs would prefer it. He’s hardly a fan of romanticizing the role of a songwriter. The first track on Humor Risk, “Love Thine Enemy”, is the polar opposite of the soulfully intricate “County Line”, opener on Wit’s End. “Love Thine Enemy” relies on a guitar riff as simple as its message: that you aren’t going to like everyone (and vice versa) despite a universal desire to be loved. Love and hate are both essential components of human nature, and McCombs’ lyrical depiction of this is exceptional as usual: “Without earthworms, how else would the soil keep clean?” Unfortunately the song lacks significantly on the musical front, delivering neither the hooks nor structural ingenuity of “County Line”, or any of McCombs’ best for that matter. Often his openers are standouts, but not here. Even without comparing it to Wit’s End, it’s just not a very fun song – or emotionally interesting, like much of his work, either....full text |
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