David W. Jacobsen "Cubicle Wonderland" (Zbokth Productions, BMI) * Sounds like: Weird Al Yankovic under capitalistic yoke.
If Mike Judge had hired "Weird Al" Yankovic to write the soundtrack to "Office Space," it would have sounded something like David W. Jacobsen's "Cubicle Wonderland." This new album comes at a poignant time for many college students, for whom the album is presumably written to warn. Many seniors are looking for jobs and may suffer the same capitalistic, compartmentalized fate as Jacobsen.
This album is not for the faint of heart or Republicans. The songs have three categories: farcical ditties, synthesized disgruntled-worker ballads and a few very angry pieces. He happens to be a good guitarist (the instrumental piece entitled "Watching the Sunrise When You Haven't Slept" is very pleasant) but the intros are misleading, because it seems that the 23rd song may be different from the first 22, but to no avail.
The album is split into two parts: "Cubicle in the Sky" and "Wonderland Fades." The tone of "Cubicle in the Sky" is more playful, with a cutting, sardonic edginess. He captures what it is like to go through the day: putting up with most of the daily idiocies by making fun of them, telling yourself you'll never do it again even if know you will, and then cracking.
"Wonderland Fades" is the more serious side. Jacobsen is describing the mundane world as it is and his ideal world. Some of the messages in these songs do have thoughtful messages, but they are lost in what can only be described as hackneyed catch-phrases and lack of continuity in the songs themselves, and in the album. This is him being serious, as opposed to him in the campy "Cubicle in the Sky."
One thing that is evident in this portion is that he does love playing guitar and he does not have to loathe his job anymore, which is commendable. But does that mean we must buy the album? They may be easy listening in a crowded New York City coffee shop or under oppressive fluorescent lights pushing papers, but they are lackluster without ambience.
This album forces the listener to grapple with some important questions, such as what is the source of Jacobsen's angst? Is it the bigwigs, in their oak-paneled offices on the 95th floor sipping aged brandy and cheating on their wives. Or is it us because we allow ourselves to be manipulated? If you are left in a tizzy over this fundamental question of capitalistic existence, buy the album and listen to the bonus 24th track whose refrain goes: "Hey boss, f-- you, I quit / I think I could do better, than this." Please David, don't be so rash.
