Ross McLennan Sympathy for the New World by: Chris Thompson Tue:01-Apr-08 Label: Mistletone Year: 2008 WB rating 70 out of 100

Three years on from the majestic pop of his solo debut Hits from the Brittle Building, former Snout frontman Ross McLennan finds himself wondering what the hell is going on in the world. Whether it’s out of concern for his young family, despair for the masses affected by the policies of a former government he openly despises or simply a case finding more in society to anger and disappoint, his new album Sympathy for the New World is a dark, moody and at times depressing affair that challenges the listener to take a closer look at the world around them and what it is and isn’t becoming.

Opener ‘I’m Heavy as I’ve Ever Been’ sets the tone, the weight of the title reflecting that of the song’s mood and lyrics. “Small change can pull you down/It was bound to end like this” laments McLennan as an ominous electronic bass pulses beneath, its driving rhythm nicely complementing the obvious anxiety of his lyrics. “It’s nice to think though fashions change/Bones still break the same today/I’m heavy as I’ve ever been.”

Strings swirl in before a chunky, reverb-laden guitar and piano take over the pulse, giving the track the feeling of a Spoon-esque chugger. But just as the song finds its groove McLennan pulls back, leaving the listener wondering where it went. It is the first sign of a change in direction from Hits, and one which hints at the movement away from Ross McLennan the all-out popster.

It isn’t until the chorus of lounge-pop track ‘Slow Guise’ that we catch any glimpse of the McLennan of old. Loaded with tremolo guitar and groovy bass, it sounds like Dr Dog on Prozac (in a good way), the melody floating in and out as he croons “you are at the height of your cynical powers/In the night’s long hours/When you’re fit to kill.” The first and probably finest pop moment of the album, it draws the listener in and gently sets them down in a smoky bar somewhere, possibly to suck back a sneaky joint and listen to the low-key band playing away barely noticed in the corner. It’s quite a wonderful feeling.

The album’s central stages are an exercise in eclecticism, moving through the busy, at times almost comically quirky pop of ‘Pete Best’, the depressed jazz intro and moody conclusion of ‘Famous Lonely Deaths’ and the mild flamenco beat of ‘Hail to the Exoskeletons’. Although it sounds as if these styles are too disparate to work in sequence, McLennan deftly applies his own stamp to all, and one gets the impression he could turn his hand to almost anything still make it sound like him.

All arpeggios and rim-shots in the verse and fuzzed-up guitar in the chorus, the balls-and-all ‘Christian Love Made a Monkey Out of Me’ changes the album’s direction again. A genuine rocker, it feels like McLennan is having fun for the first time on Sympathy. This is by no means a criticism, as there’s considerable evidence to suggest that music is at its best when it’s depressing as hell. But it sure is nice to get a pick-me-up once in a while, and the song is perfectly placed and suited to the task.

The penultimate track, ‘Now, About Siev X’ is the album highlight. Named for the boat full of asylum-seekers that sank off the Australian coast in 2001 Killing 353 people, it is the weightiest of a weighty group of songs. Touching and affecting, it focuses both on the people and politics of the situation and when McLennan sings “They’d have you believe it doesn’t take a lot to choose/For a mother to let go of all she’s got to lose/These arms are your own again/Nothing left to do but to swim” it is impossible not to be moved.

Album closer ‘Welcome to World’s Fair’ is a challenging finish to an album that continually provides challenges. More a spoken word critique on modern society set to music than a song, it is an entirely apt, if not completely satisfying end to what is at times a difficult journey.

There’s no denying McLennan is getting more frustrated with the world as he grows older and Sympathy for the New World is testament to this; the album is brimming with a sense of foreboding and, at times, melancholy, that has been missing from his previous work both with Snout and on Hits from the Brittle Building.

Whether or not this new mood is an improvement on the old is certainly in the ear of the beholder, but there is no denying that McLennan has again produced a rich and layered work that will at times amaze, at times confound and always evoke an emotional response. And, love or loathe it, I guess you can’t really ask for more than that.