Commentary / Reviews

It was only a matter of time before Dan "The Automator" Nakamura landed himself a hit record. After recording under a slew of guises -- Dr. Octagon, Deltron 3030, Handsome Boy Modeling School -- the Automator blew up something global with 2001's Gorillaz project, a complete musical and visual statement that featured sonic contributions from Blur's Damon Albarn, Cibo Matto's Miho Hatori, and a host of others paired with cartoon characters by Tank Girl creator Jamie Hewlett.
One of the most tireless producers in the biz today, the Automator wasted no time in crafting yet another project, this time resurrecting his Nathaniel Merriweather persona from Handsome Boy Modeling School for Music to Make Love to Your Old Lady By. This time, the chief collaborators include former Faith No More frontman Mike Patton and Elysian Fields vocalist Jennifer Charles as well as cameos from the growing alumni of past Automator productions: Albarn, Prince Paul, and turntable whiz Kid Koala, as well as newcomers to the fold like Afrika Bambaataa and De La Soul's Maseo.

So what exactly is Lovage? Ask Sir Damien Thorn VII of the Cockfosters Clan (a.k.a. Damon Albarn). Olde English Lovage is an alcoholic cordial, explains Sir Damien, which is "traditionally drunk two parts Lovage to one part brandy as a soothing winter warmer." For something a little more explicit, the recommendation is two parts Hennessy to one part Lovage. Essentially, this is a record about guzzling Lovage by the gallon-full, as evidenced by the softcore porn vibe carried on by Patton and Charles.

The mood has a decidedly darker tinge than past Automator joints, due in large part to Patton's frighteningly diverse vocals, something best experienced on "Book of the Month," where Patton ranges from a growling spoken-word style to falsetto. There's plenty of heavy breathing and moaning as well, and lines traded with Charles including, "You are the griddle / I am the meat." George Foreman would be proud. Check out "Sex (I'm A)" for an even saucier interaction between the two. Charles plays the role of wounded chanteuse quite well, alternating between catty, porn-star whispers and floated, breathy verses on such tracks as "Strangers on a Train."

This is the kind of bedroom album someone like Jack Black of Tenacious D would prefer, with a sort of "take me gently" mantra prevailing throughout. Only time will tell whether it's a cheeky classic or a momentary novelty.

Peter Gaston
CDNOW Associate Editor

(January 16, 2002)