They Might Be Giants / Mink Car (Archives, 2001)

(Late 2021 note: This album faced a hard life due to label issues. It’s getting revived onstage … maybe. Details currently up at TBMG’s homepage.)

In the five years since their last full studio album, They Might Be Giants’ two Johns (Linnell and Flansburgh) have distilled the perfect pop mix of snot and Toughskins for the Malcolm In The Middle opening credits. They’ve released an mp3-only record, and even written the theme for Dr. Evil.

Now, their day job beckons, and it appears that their multimedia dabblings provided melodic fuel for Mink Car, a predictably eclectic but consistently enjoyable set.

How, you might ask, can TBMG keep their output as perpetually fresh as a good batch of sourdough batter? Two ingredients rise to the top of this mix: a pinch of straight-up romance, and some essence of other bands.

Sure, saccharine has never been their style, but the opening “Bangs” hides some real romance (“a proscenium to stage a face that needs no makeup”) behind the wit. Likewise, if you blindfolded your ears, you’d swear “Another First Kiss” is the next single for Sugar Ray. (No, I’m not kidding. Yes, I mean it in a good way.)

Musical references kick in with a double-edged homage to driving ’80s dance rock (“Man, It’s Loud In Here”) and the Bacharach-esque title track, which is slightly morbid but very groovy.

“Finished With Lies” echoes earlier fib-related hits by The Who and The Knickerbockers, while “Wicked Little Critta” blends urban Boston’s mid’80s sound with reference to the area’s ’70s sports legends in a great ode to their youth.

As with the Ramones, TBMG’s distinctive sound sometimes overshadows the disarming lack of cynicism at the heart of their work. Flansburgh and Linnell have located and mastered the care and feeding of their inner 12-year-olds, and that’s why they do so well at making music for Mike Myers, Frankie Munoz, and other less famous but equally smartypantsed kids at heart.

Musical references kick in with a double-edged homage to driving ’80s dance rock (“Man, It’s Loud In Here”) and the Bacharach-esque title track, which is slightly morbid but very groovy.

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