Death Jokes

Some tracks accordingly veer toward the solipsistic—”Exodus” pushes the newfound Arthur Russell-meets-Tim Buckley vibe a little past the point of viability. But even at his most bleakly compressed, McMahon can still produce a striking melody.

There’s a pleasing friction between the grainy or otherwise affected samples and the polished music around them. Whether they air the frustrations of pioneering artistic transgressors like Dilla and Bruce on “Poor Cops,” or propel the bombastic “Joyrider” with an echo chamber of exclamations right out of Ye’s Rick James sample on “Runaway,” they give the album an imminent sense of cacophony, of a messy world that can’t but intrude on McMahon’s thoughts. It’s a collective sound, and a haunting one.

It's tempting to want these songs to have the space to breathe. Nevertheless, McMahon always takes his music wherever it needs to go, and Death Jokes is the bracing sound of Amen Dunes actively engaging with the world and its problems.

It’s at times a frustrating listen – just as a flow appears, dark, ominous vignettes (Joyrider, Predator) shatter the illusion. Eventually, reward arrives. Carrying you through the epic collage of Round the World is McMahon’s anchor of a voice, proving there’s beauty to be found in the disquiet.

The ideas on Death Jokes, his self-produced sixth album, are clearer. He is blunter and more forceful with specific meaning on this album than ever.

The album, true to its title, seems like a long and tortured joke with plenty of narrative that only the teller can fully grasp – at times the delivery is bravura and spellbinding, but too often it falls flat and loses momentum. There’s undeniably a great work of art in here among the clutter of scraps that McMahon has collected over the last few years.

The segues on Death Jokes prove to be the highlights of McMahon's experimentation. "Joyrider," "Predator" and "Solo Tape" succeed because they are unencumbered by the weight of songwriting expectation. Unlike the fuller compositions, these interstitial tracks lean more on the side of musical vignettes.