Aimee Mann
Bachelor No. 2 (or, The Last Remains of the Dodo)

THE REVIEW

Enthusiastically setting out to present new material only to face a crossroads where on one side lies artistic integrity and on the other a legitimate hope for recognition, bigger earnings, and proper publicity. A crossroads that seems obvious to many, but not to Aimee Mann. In the late '90s, her new album was rejected by her record label Interscope because it lacked the pop appeal necessary to succeed in the merciless arena of the current music market. At this point, the shy Aimee had the "audacity" to buy the rights to her songs, begin performing them live, and sell them exclusively online.

Meanwhile, Paul Thomas Anderson found inspiration in Aimee Mann's songs for his "Magnolia," a film that would enjoy enormous success and whose soundtrack was mainly composed of songs by the American singer-songwriter. This was the push needed to reboot Aimee Mann's career: she independently released (SuperEgo Records) the material previously rejected by Interscope, along with new pieces that had been added in the meantime, and thus "Bachelor No. 2 (Or, the last remains of the dodo)" finally saw the light. The album, like a slap in the face to Interscope, became Aimee Mann's most successful album, as well as the one that to this day contends with the excellent "Lost In Space" for the title of her best work.

Aimee Mann is a singer-songwriter characterized by great class and sensitivity, with an intricate, elaborate, and seductive songwriting style, making melancholy and introspection her almost unbeatable axe of war. She possesses an unmistakable, versatile, and incisive voice and performs a mature and composed pop, vaguely reminiscent of Joni Mitchell or The Beatles, but interpreted with great personality and skill.

"Bachelor No. 2" is an elegant album with excellent insights, moving away from the pop-rock of the previous "I'm With Stupid" and showcasing an evolution both in sound (today with a more folk-inspired and refined imprint) and in songwriting. From the opener "How Am I Different?" - the first of several poisoned arrows aimed at the record labels - this is already evident. But also in the delightful "Driving Sideways", with its decadent car-crossing tone that should be proclaimed the anthem of all twilight drivers.

Even in the slower pieces, Aimee Mann passes the test with flying colors, as seen especially in "Deathly", which begins serenely and stagnant with its acoustic backbone, only to blossom in a crescendo in the final part, where the instrumental contribution intensifies to produce one of the strongest tracks of the batch. But the true peak is reached with the duo "Ghost World" and "Calling It Quits". The former is a now rare example of a "perfect pop song" that can be interpreted as recounting the common issue of facing life after studies. The latter is simply the most interesting piece of the album, a solid and original power-ballad based on the initial piano melody but, above all, on the caustic and sharp lyrics.

Aimee Mann's limitation, here as in her subsequent albums, is her inability to hit the mark unless listened to with a certain dedication. She relies heavily on the splendid lyrics, but the accompaniments, although pleasant and never trivial, might seem too homogenous upon a superficial listen, and Mann might appear cold and cryptic. However, after all, the stories told by Aimee Mann are nothing but chronicles of daily life in which anyone could see themselves. And if hardly anyone finds themselves in the poignant and minimalist "Just Like Anyone" (dedicated to Jeff Buckley), I have no complaints if that TG5 news anchor with a silly grin tells me about people being blown to bits while I bite into my sandwich every evening.