Adventure is an example of those one-man bands, like Girl Talk, whose crazy sound doesn’t quite match up to the image of the man behind the curtain. His self-titled album, which came out in late September on Carpark Records, is a sort of mask.
Seeing Benny Boeldt perform at the Baltimore Round Robin event at this year’s Pop Montreal, I met a man who did not mesh with the idea I had formed listening to his music beforehand. In no way is this a bad thing. In fact, a faithful rendition of what my imagination produced would be impossible, really. It would be like seeing a Nintendo character in real life.
Boeldt’s stage performance was little more than drunken swooning; holding half a beer in one hand, he swayed to the beat, effortlessly running through the melodies of his incredibly intricate songs on a keyboard with the other. Pre-recorded tracks provided backup.
In my mind, when I listen to Adventure, things aren’t so relaxed. I hear 1988 on crystal meth. I hear what true fans of the 2-D Zelda video games wished the soundtrack was like. Bright colours and He-Man flash before my eyes.
Boeldt, who was as mild-mannered to speak with after the show as I was frenetic during his set, did not evoke such feelings. But that’s alright: somehow, I know those same feelings were in his head when he wrote the music for his first record. The result is an album that is as perfect for headphones as it is for dance halls.