Twink | Music | Pittsburgh | Pittsburgh City Paper

Twink

A Broken Record
Seeland

 

 

It's good that Bostonian mad scientist Mike Langlie, under the typically lulling moniker Twink, has chosen to make avant-garde children's records rather than pursue any of the other options available to someone with his mindset -- such as death-ray invention, secret-island-lair plotting, or stealing all of the Earth's supply of some certain precious metal or natural resource. Because it's obvious from A Broken Record -- Twink's third full-length disc and first to steer clear of the toy-piano mayhem that has earned Langlie praise for efforts such as Supercute! and The Toy Box -- that Mr. Twink has himself a few childhood power-struggle issues yet to be worked through.

 

 

Armed with a massive collection of vintage children's records, a warped mind and a few building-block-rockin' beats, A Broken Record finds Twink making psychotic playground mash-ups such as the Casio-core kiddie confusion "Whose Turn Is It?," with "Frére Jacques" tuba parts leaping between keyboard blips and flip-flopping neurosis-inducing vocals from a children's-game 45. Or the cheesy-rave send-up of "Three Blind Mice," which might cause MDMA addicts to rethink a few choices. It's all in the spirit of Twink's Seeland Records bosses, Negativland, whose inspiration is most obvious on fairy-tale stories such as "Grandmother Meets the Wolf," which mashes fairy tales such that Granny attacks the wolf and chases him into the woods with her sharp fangs. Like Helter Stupid for the preschool set.

 

A Broken Record isn't exactly the set for the romantic dinner or the keg party, but as a reworking of the old and safe into something very new and, while by no means offensive or frightening, not exactly safe, Twink has made an art record well worth listening to with your inner child's ears on. That way, you'll understand.