King Creosote: Thrawn
Since 1995, Scottish indie-folkie Kenny Anderson has self-released more than 40 albums on his own Fence Records under the name “King Creosote,” and has periodically polished up some of the best material for release on other labels. Thrawn marks the first official Stateside King Creosote release, and it’s a compilation of the best of that best: songs like the snappy, board-game-inspired “You’ve No Clue Do You,” the honking, music-hall-ish “Bootprints,” and the solemn, churchly “The Vice-Like Gist Of It.” King Creosote’s music shares some of the inventive, kitchen-sink quality of early Badly Drawn Boy and some of the back-to-basics highland-folk feel of Paul McCartney’s first few post-Beatles records, but Anderson has his own skewed perspective, whether he’s comparing a fumbling flirtation to a trip to the laundromat in the droning “Twin Tub Twin” or targeting a fellow lonely soul at a party in the buzzy, uptempo acoustic number “Missionary.” For a crème-de-la-crème collection, Thrawn is a little too spotty, as a surfeit of clever lyrical and musical ideas war with each other within some songs. But given how many uninspired, guitar-plucking singer-songwriters walk the Earth, it’s hardly a major flaw that King Creosote has too much to offer.