As with his brilliant, eponymous 2003 debut, Sweetheart is all Dan Reeder. The American expat provides all the vocals, writes everything (except the minimalist reading of Procol Harum’s “Whiter Shade Of Pale” that closes the set), and plays all the instruments (which he either designed and built himself or rescued from the trash heap). He recorded the album in his homemade, Rube Goldberg-esque studio in Germany, where he has lived and worked as a visual artist since the 1980s.
With his dusty, intimate tenor, Reeder spools out a continuous string of dizzying tales and head-scratching ruminations. There’s the cautionary “You’ll Never Surf Again”; “Bach Is Dead And Gone”, a rustic, languid blues in which he bemoans “I said let’s write some motets, but he was already done”; a baffling collision of suds, baseball chatter and Jesus on “I Drink Beer”; and a masterful spy-thriller/noir/doo-wop delight titled “You Should Have Wrote A Book”.
Throughout, Reeder’s synapses spark and leap with dependable daffiness, often with an earthiness that’s far more “naughty” than salacious. This is a one-of-a-kind artist with (now) two-of-a-kind treasures that are guaranteed to rearrange and refresh your brain pan.
