Like the five albums before it, this latest offering from Vorn features his idiosyncratic tongue-in-cheek lyricism and crystal-clear articulation. Subject matter spans the self-denigrating, the domestic and the creepy. Vorn sings about free condoms from Family Planning, repetitive nightmares and the romantic pitfalls of being a bedroom musician.
On one of my favourite songs, he sings about loonies in Newtown – the Wellington suburb where students, drunks and new migrants rub shoulders at the green grocer’s. He’s light on poetry but piles on the comedy. The songs are immaculately recorded compositions of guitar, trumpet, violin, cello and electronica. There’s white-boy rap and finger-snaps, walking bass and snappy snare. Another highlight is You Don’t Have to Hate Yourself to Sleep With Me (But it Helps) where soulful harmonies are made incongruous by their content.
And the fizzy So It’s Come To This that culminates in a blissful Eloise Bayliss sighing “blah, blah, blah” (better heard than described). After more than 10 years feeding his fans, Vorn isn’t going to drop his act any time soon. In fact, he has a winking eye on the day “when The Naked & Famous are both fully clothed and utterly obscure, when the only place you can find an Opshop record in is an op shop, and people who love music will be talking about this record.”