Corey Dargel

Corey Dargel is a young singer/songwriter in the Stephin Merritt mold – he’s got the same flat-as-Earth vocal tone, an “I do the NY Times Saturday crossword every week – in pen“-style vocabulary that he’s not afraid to flaunt, and the same affinity for the tender-hearted smirk. I caught him last night at the Le Poisson Rouge, which is rapidly becoming an inescapable destination for me. Dargel was there with the NOW Ensemble, and he was performing the entirety of his new album Other People’s Love Songs.

The concept for the record is as follows: each track on the album (there are 13 total) was commissioned by someone as a custom-made gift to their significant other/partner/spouse. Corey sat down with the person commissioning the song and quizzed them for hours on their partner – how did you meet? What do they do? What was your first date like? What do they do that most drives you crazy? etc – and then worked all of this incredibly specific data into his songs, which functioned sort of like the serenades that the commissioners wished to write for their others but lacked the eloquence or musical ability. Basically, Dargel played the role of a sardonic-hipster Cyrano, translating his patrons’ tangled and intense feelings into artful, sophisticated pop songs.

The album itself, available here on eMusic via New Amsterdam Records, merges the dreamy synth-pop of The Postal Service – cooing female background vocals and quietly sputtering percussion and all – with Dargel’s slyly romantic lyrics. On paper, I confess many of the lyrics made me cringe, but part of the pleasure of last night’s concert was watching Dargel turn this deeply unlikely material into effortless art-pop. He has an incredibly fine-tuned ear for lyric-setting and a knack for writing melodies that twist unpredictably, all of which helps one swallow some of the more “I <3 Ira Glass” lyrics. Dargel’s lyrics are full of signifiers that veer dangerously close to what can only be described as liberal-yuppie porn – brace yourself for hearing the lines “Opera, cabaret and the literati” and “I promise not to listen to so much NPR” set to music – with genuinely universal sentiments that justify whatever Harvard Review-friendly in-jokes might strike one as, well, self-congratulatory and pretentious.

The record, while catchy and endearing, comes off as considerably more twee and saccharine than the concert did last night, which replaced the Atari bleeps and plinky-plink synths with lively, ingenious accompaniment from the NOW Ensemble. Some of these songs sound like MIDI demos in comparison – a deliberate decision, I’m sure, but one that upsets the delicate balance that keeps this stuff from tumbling into preciousness. I much prefer the gently sighing accordion and rippling, arpeggiated guitar of last night’s live show to the toy-symphony approach on the album. Nonetheless, this is an incredibly unique project, and Corey is absolutely worth keeping an eye on. The NOW Ensemble, which played Dargel’s pitch-perfect arrangements, also have a record on eMusic: my favorite is the elusive, fluttering “All Together Now.”