Back in 2004, Say Hi To Your Mom were still a one-man act consisting solely of Eric Elbogen’s vocals, synth, and guitar. The opening lines of “Pop Music of the Future,” the first track on Say Hi’s sophomore release Numbers and Mumbles, gently allude to Elbogen’s loner status: “She sold her Warlock and bought a drum machine/Fired her whole band because they hated 909 beats.”
For much of the album, Elbogen’s songwriting moves back and forth between such self-reflexiveness and extreme geekery. Sometimes steady and loud, sometimes quiet and quavering, the vox sound a lot like, well, a nerd singing alone in his bedroom in between beating levels of a video game. At least, that’s the mental image I get; the lyrics’ continual return to images of bedroom solitude–”it’s never been clearer/just dance in the mirror” (from “A Hit in Sweden” ), “just like your teeball trophy says/you’ve come so far” (from “Super”), “so say goodbye/there’s the door/I can’t see you anymore” (from “She Beat My High Score”)–underscores it for me.
The album’s solitary synth thing is all right if you’re in the mood for it, but in this post-Postal Service day and age, many of us are a bit Ben Gibbard-ed out. In my opinion, the strongest songs on Numbers and Mumbles are the ones in which the depth of Elbogen’s musical arrangement contrasts with his lyrics’ claustrophobia, resulting in something a little bigger and a lot better than another ballad-of-the-lonely-nerdinator. My favorite track on the album is “Hooplas Involving Circus Tricks,” which starts with an organ intro, meets a tambourine a few measures in, and, as Elbogen begins singing, picks up a synth loop that sounds a little like a pogo stick (awesome, we’re out of the bedroom and in the driveway now!). The result is an excellent math-friendly ballad about sexual tension, underscored by the driving guitar that comes in for the chorus.
Witnessing him multitask his way through this song live is great fun, by the way. Though Elbogen has since picked up bandmates Jeff Sheinkopf (of Longwave and Sea Ray) on keys and Chris Egan on drums, the last time he rolled through my town to play at P.A.’s Lounge, he was on stage alone. Which is probably just as well–I think that may actually have been Jeff himself dancing like an idiot directly in front of me at the show. I’m not one hundred percent sure, though, because whoever it was temporarily blinded me with a four-inch expanse of their underwear. Note to people who must sag: do not wear tight-whities, and if you must, please do NOT bend over while you dance. Thank the Good Lord there was no blacklight at P.A.’s that night, else the retinal damage would’ve been permanent.
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