Album Review: Evinspacey by Cassettes Won't Listen

When Cassettes Won’t Listen (aka Jason Drake) announced the title of his new LP in early May, actor Kevin Spacey instantly hit him with a subpoena that forced a new name and all new covers to be printed. Scrounging for a similarly catchy title, Drake decided upon the next best follow-up to the Oscar winner: Evinspacey. (So far, no Evin Spaceys have tried to sue.) In an interview, the multi-instrumentalist mentioned that the title was never meant as a snide remark toward Spacey but rather as a pun on moving from jam-packed NYC to sprawling, “spacious” Los Angeles.

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In the first half of the previous decade a trend for melancholy developed in the cinema; a fashion for comic films with an air of romance, bleakly tinged with sadness or even tragedy. It’s a genre that Woody Allen perfected in the Seventies and Eighties, but seemed to fall out of favour in the Nineties as quickly as the quality of Allen’s films diminished. Then at the end of that decade Sam Mendes and Alan Ball combined to produce the pitch-perfect American Beauty, a film about Lester Burnham: a man who is horrified to find himself drifting comfortably through the modern world with no real direction and only the vaguest idea of just what he was doing in life.

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One man electronic projects are a dime a dozen. The saturation of this genre has thus made standing out a tough job for anyone getting involved. For Jason Drake’s project Cassettes Won’t Listen, there’s still a long road ahead. It was the Postal Service-coined alienation and heartbreak that gave the scene its credo, and Drake took hold of the style quite firmly, making it his calling card.

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