Somebody once called Sir Bobby Jukebox “the mad
scientist of indie pop,” and, with the exception of Sir Benjamin Gibbard, I’m inclined to agree. Given that we’re
talking about royalty here (that’s what you are when you’re knighted, right?),
we have to tread carefully with our formalism. You don’t want to tick off the
people whose land you can’t hunt on (if I recall my European history correctly).
Just kidding about the knighting stuff, but Sir
Bobby is an actual knight, having gone into battle with various troupes (No
Monster Club, Ginnels, Paddy Hanna and Grand Pocket Orchestra) and slaying the
dragons and marauding invaders of boredom and ennui. Wielding catchy songs like
a magical sword plucked from a lake, Sir Bobby mows down everything and
anything that comes at him with swift and true strokes – as long as whatever it
is is worthy of a caustic barb or two.
Sir Bobby ranges through a kaleidoscopic pop
countryside trod by such fun-loving luminaries as Larry Wish and Attic Ted and,
dare I say, David Byrne, jigging and jagging along melodies and shuffling under
psychedelic moods. Are the tracks whimsical? Almost always. Are they
delightfully cheeky? You bet. There’s not much to turn up your nose at, even if
you’re some kind of stuck-up royal knight or something. Oh wait, the
knighthood! Eeesh … (does the Johnny Carson collar tug). Let’s just say, they
only thing we’re going to get around to dubbing anytime soon is this tape.
… And by “we” and “dubbing,” I mean Already Dead and
their official duplication team. I’m not making bootlegs, honest!
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