Michael Penn 1: March

It’s tough enough when one of your siblings is famous, and worse when you’re trying to make a name for yourself. Michael Penn has never (to our knowledge) tried to ride his brother’s coattails, even when that brother was married to Madonna. Rather, he has consistently—if intermittently—specialized in highly literate singer-songwriting, usually about matters of romance or lack thereof. Both music and lyrics are influenced by Bob Dylan and the Beatles at their hippest. His first album set a template as well: mostly acoustic guitar accompanied by inventive and not robotic drum machines, and a few not-flashy electric solos, in collaboration with Patrick Warren, who assisted on programming and keyboards, most notably the Chamberlin, a Mellotron precursor.

“No Myth” is the opening track on March, and was also the lead single and video that exposed him to MTV and VH-1 viewers, and a good introduction. “Half Harvest” is more of the same, but “This & That” picks up the tempo and offers more interesting melodies in the verses and choruses. “Brave New World” is probably the most Dylanesque song, with its rapid-fire verses that probably went too fast for people to sing along, except for the crack chorus not too close to “Friday On My Mind”, nicely toned back after the third verse before shifting back into high gear. (That’s Jim Keltner on the actual drums, and it shows.) “Innocent One” returns to quiet folk, but for shaken percussion and either an accordion or harmonium.

“Disney’s A Snow Cone” is a Tom Waits-ian Chamberlin showcase that prefaces “Bedlam Boys”, a rich pop song that features contributions from not only Wendy & Lisa, but Prince backup singer Boni Boyer. Wendy’s brother David provides the oud on “Invisible”, which is mostly centered around a repeated but not repetitive guitar riff, supported by Keltner (again) and Larry Klein on bass; clearly the kid had taste as well as connections. A title like “Cupid’s Got A Brand New Gun” sets a high bar, particularly with such a slow beginning, but it manages to ride the dynamics. Speaking of which, Kenny Aronoff is behind the kit for the edgy “Big House”, handling the time changes well. “Battle Room” covers by-now-familiar ground, with lots of chord changes over a fairly simple backing. If things have seemed to get a little routine, he pulls out all the stops for “Evenfall”, which has Keltner and Aronoff each in their own speaker, as well as a honking horn section under the rhythm piano.

We referred to him as “literate”, mostly because we haven’t thought of a better word; he probably could. His lyrical approach throughout March—and indeed, his career—leaves plenty of question as to what the songs are actually about. But when the presentation is as pleasing as this, it’s almost moot. Almost. (For some reason, the album was repackaged in the new century with the addition of all but two tracks from his next album. It’s better than nothing, but streaming makes it moot.)

Michael Penn March (1989)—3
2001 reissue: same as 1989, plus 9 extra tracks