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If you can
imagine an earnest Stephin Merritt, you'll get an idea of what Boston
boy Myke Weiskopf is up to on his third album. Even though two
members of Weiskopf's live band appear here, it all sounds like the
man alone with his keyboard, reminiscent of Holiday-era
Magnetic Fields. But Weiskopf plays his programming for new-wave gush
rather than robotic detachment, and his self-expression risks the
ridicule of pop theoreticians (I was quite surprised to see the name
of Merritt associate ld beghtol in the Thank Yous). These nine modest
songs are reports from the frontline of the gay bar scene, accurately
rendered via bellicose imagery including satellites, U-boats, radar
and — that most important piece of queer survival gear —
code-breakers. The lyrics suggest Weiskopf's done his time there and
moved on, but 1998's Futurama sounded jauntier somehow —
there's nothing here as radio-ready as that album's "Lay You Out in
Lavender." Here's hoping he'll be able to make not wanting what he
hasn't got sound interesting when we hear from him next.
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