LAA: You play detective in some ways for the 1947 Project. How would you go about tracking him down if you were going to?
KC: Well, I did track him down, before starting work on the book. I would have been uncomfortable poking around in the life of such a private person without first explaining my intentions and ideally receiving his blessing. And actually, it wasn’t too difficult: a few emails and calls to friends and associates, and he agreed to talk to me. It would have been a little trickier had he not wanted to be found!

LAA: Was this your first stint in music journalism and how did you find the experience?
KC: This was my first solo book, but I’ve been editing Scram, a journal of unpopular culture, since 1992, and co-edited two pop anthologies, Lost in the Grooves: Scram’s Capricious Guide to the Music You Missed and Bubblegum Music is the Naked Truth.

While the skills I’ve honed interviewing folks like Emitt Rhodes, Linda Perhacs, P.F. Sloan, Colin Blunstone, Vashti Bunyan, Devendra Banhart, etc., came into play, writing a book that tells the full story of a band is a very different process than writing a magazine feature. It was challenging, scary and inspiring, and a lot of work.

By the way, I’m working on a feature for the next Scram comprised of some of the interview material that didn’t make it into the Neutral Milk Hotel book.

LAA: Were you surprised with how much people involved, friends and band members, were willing to open up about it?
KC: Happily so, because until I spoke with Jeff, and he presumably determined I was not a stalker or a jerk, I wasn’t really connecting with many people from his circle. But once we spoke that changed, and everyone was extremely generous and open.

LAA: What do you think is the attraction to the ‘behind the music’ aspect of this kind of writing?
KC: If you mean the attraction to dirt, gossip is at the heart of human relationships. Only sociopaths are disinterested in the complex and scandalous actions of others. But personally, I’d rather wallow in the dirt of the long-dead—like James Boswell’s London Journal—and maintain a bit of mystery around living artists whose work I love.

LARGEHEARTED BOY, 1/31/2006

Of all the books in Continuum's 33 1/3 series on seminal albums, I have enjoyed In the Aeroplane Over the Sea the most. Kim Cooper not only details the recording of one of my favorite albums, but she also captures the formation of the Elephant6 collective that created (and influenced) so much of the music I love. (click to read Kim's playlist of songs to accompany her book)

SHEPHERD-EXPRESS, 1/2006

One anecdote collected in Kim Cooper’s wonderful In the Aeroplane Over the Sea (Continuum Books), the story of the making of Neutral Milk Hotel’s groundbreaking album of the same name, perfectly exemplifies the type of commitment that the band instilled in its fans. During a 1998 tour stop in Chattanooga, Tenn., a girl drove from Arkansas to give bandleader Jeff Magnum her grandmother’s rosary. She talked with Jeff for a few minutes and then started the long journey home—without even seeing the show. Even today—nearly 10 years after the record was released—people are still raving about this particular NMH record. Check out any of the numerous message boards devoted to the band (or the comments on Amazon.com) for evidence of this loyalty. People are rabidly fanatical about this band.

In many ways, it is this utter dedication to music that makes up the core of Cooper’s fascinating look at Magnum and his band mates. For while Cooper collects the musings of all NMH members, this is truly the story of the mystery of Jeff Magnum: how he wrote a collection of songs that touched so many so deeply, and how he walked away from it all after the release of Aeroplane. The fanaticism displayed by NMH fans, as Cooper shows, was more than matched by the fanaticism that Magnum brought to his music. Here was a man completely devoted to his craft, to the point that it seemingly cost him both his physical and mental health.

Much of Magnum’s devotion to music appears to be a result of his struggles with religion, and Cooper notes how religious questions seemingly played a vital role in both the songwriter’s rise and fall. Cooper, for example, notes that Magnum’s childhood experiences at a religious camp played a major role in his emotional and artistic development (Magnum would later startle indie kids by singing, “I love you Jesus Christ/Jesus Christ I love you, yes I do” on the track “The King of Carrot Flowers Pts. Two & Three” from NMH’s seminal album). Cooper also pays close attention to Magnum’s obsession with Anne Frank, whose presence haunts many of Aeroplane’s songs. To Magnum, the story of Frank, and the Holocaust that took her life, undoubtedly shook his belief in a benevolent God. It is therefore not surprising that Magnum could not find the motivation to record another album after Aeroplane.

Sadly, we never learn exactly what motivated Magnum, as his voice is remarkably absent from this work. Yet this book, along with recent albums by such bands as the Decemberists, the Arcade Fire and Wolf Parade (all of whom clearly draw from the sounds of NMH), reminds us that his band continues to be relevant in the 21st century. And perhaps we haven’t heard the last from Magnum. Laura Carter, who played in NMH as well as Elf Power, has said that she believes Jeff’s plan was to “be a recluse and then come out with an album in 10 years and shock everybody.” Aeroplane came out in February 1998. That gives you a little more than two years, Jeff. (Michael Carriere)

FLAGPOLE (ATHENS), 1/18/2006

Ghost, Ghost: A New Book Examines Neutral Milk Hotel's Landmark Sophomore Album, interview by Chris Hassiotis

Mapping the intricacies of any album's creation can be like signing up for a class in headaches. This is particularly true when the album being examined is Neutral Milk Hotel's 1997 release In the Aeroplane Over the Sea; the band's second album was cultivated in the heart of the loose Elephant 6 collective, whose members swapped instruments, stages and rooms, and whose personal lives overlapped just as much.

In her new book In the Aeroplane Over the Sea (Continuum), Los Angeles-based writer Kim Cooper, editor of the long-running Scram!, unravels the rumors and demystifies much of the legend that has wound itself around songwriter Jeff Mangum since the Athens band's 1998 breakup. In speaking with the band's core - Mangum, Julian Koster, Jeremy Barnes and Scott Spillane - as well as others involved in its production, Cooper effectively reminds readers that Neutral Milk Hotel was a band of real people - dear friends - playing instruments, but reinforces the idea that Aeroplane and its songs are a unique document of a time, place and creative community. "The songs are beautiful and fascinating, the playing unpredictable and soulful, the production sympathetic and effective," Cooper writes. She spent a good amount of research time in Athens (even crashing at the house of Happy Happy Birthday to Me Records), and allows those involved to step to the forefront of their own story - save for Mangum, who declined to be officially interviewed.

After only six weeks, the book has gone back to press for a second printing. David Barker, editor of the series which focuses on individual albums, says, "It's fantastic to see Kim's book off to such a great start, and outselling our books about Springsteen and Bowie. The story is clearly resonating with a lot of fans."

Flagpole recently spoke with Cooper from her home in Los Angeles.

Flagpole: Let's start at the beginning. How did you come to write a book about In the Aeroplane Over the Sea?
Kim Cooper: I was doing a book called Lost in the Grooves, an anthology of people celebrating great "lost records," and when I asked for bios from all of our contributors, [music writer] Andrew Hultkrans told me about a book he was doing for 33 1/3, and I got excited and wanted to read it. He put me in touch with his editor because I wanted to pitch some stuff.
David Barker at Continuum said, "Send me your wish list," and I put together what you would expect from someone who's mainly written about bubblegum, psychedelia and weird thriftstore records. It was very much a '60s, early '70s list. And then kind of as an afterthought, and to escape being pigeonholed, I put on a couple of new things: Lolita Nation by Game Theory and Aeroplane, which were the two more recent records that I thought deserved a book that I felt passionately about. David wrote back and said, "Hey, these are a bunch of great records, and I think Aeroplane might be the most interesting for us."

Flagpole: How long did the entire process take?
Kim Cooper: I think a couple of years. It took a while to really open up the lines of communication with everyone involved in the group, and I didn't really know what it was going to be until I talked to everybody, and then it all kind of fell into place.

Flagpole: You never formally interviewed Jeff Mangum, and he's never directly quoted in the book, but his presence is felt throughout. Was that a compromise you had to accept, or something you were open to from the beginning?
Kim Cooper: I had a nice conversation with him before I did anything else, and let him know where I was coming from as a writer and let him know that I had no intention of exploiting his story or his friends' lives and that I would be happy to talk with him if he wanted to go on the record, but that he didn't have to. I think we both went back and forth on whether to do it, and we emailed a lot about it.
I can certainly see that having him in the book as just another member of Neutral Milk Hotel would be a big challenge, because everything he says comes under such incredible scrutiny and just raises different issues. I didn't want to him to be a ghost in the book, though, but I like how things turned out.

Flagpole: Do you think the way it turned out will just feed into the hermit-madman mythology building around him?
Kim Cooper: Yeah. But at the same time, his friends really know him well. As with any popular rock musician, the people in the inner circle and the people in the outer circle, their perceptions of any musician, Jeff in this case, may be more real than what the person is experiencing or more revealing that what they have to say about themselves.

Flagpole: In the book's introduction, you write "Neutral Milk Hotel first impressed (On Avery Island, their 1995 debut full-length), then astonished (1997's In The Aeroplane Over the Sea)" Was that your initial reaction to the album?
Kim Cooper: I don't think I recognized it as being a total classic right away, but I thought it was really, really powerful, and it got to me immediately. And I was just happy they had a new album out. I didn't really know that much about them. Never saw them live, unfortunately.

Flagpole: A number of fans seem to have a rabidly personal relationship with the album. That's an important part of the album's legacy, and you discuss that well. However, one of the few people not directly involved with the band you interviewed was Jason Wachtelhausen. Did you consider talking to other fans?
Kim Cooper: I put out a call to people who'd written things on message boards and some other people. I found Jason because I was trying to find out about the Dog Museum. Laura remembered it as a group of people in Victorian clothes who followed them around the country, but when I asked Jason about it, he was like, "Uh, no."

It seemed like there was an interesting community that had sprung up around their live shows. And then people like Briana [Whyte, who's quoted in the book] wrote a really beautiful post about the music that obviously resonated with others.

Flagpole: Did delving this deep into the specifics of the album's creation change your opinion of it in any way?
Kim Cooper: It's funny, because the record doesn't sound any different at all to me. You know how those annotated books, like The Annotated Alice [in Wonderland] or The Wizard of Oz, where after you've read it, you can't help but think about the footnotes, somehow the record seems to stand apart. I know much more about it, but it hasn't lost anything.

Flagpole: One thing that hasn't been explored as in depth anywhere else is how big of a contribution Robert Schneider had in the album's production.
Kim Cooper: Oh, my god! Robert is so, so important. He was a really good friend to Jeff.

Flagpole: An appealing factor of the book, and something you're particularly able to convey, is the open-ended sense of collaboration between musicians, not just in Athens, but at that time in Athens and with that group of people.
Kim Cooper: There was a really nice openness. Nobody in my interviews felt like they had to be the star of the book, and it seemed like when the album was being made was a really special time. You're lucky to live in a town with so many people like that.

NIGHTTIMES, 1/15/2006

Virtually unknown to the mainstream, Neutral Milk Hotel's In The Aeroplane Over The Sea is by far an all-time favorite album for critics and indie music lovers alike. And this crowd are all no doubt drawing a big smile and jumping with joy that Kim Cooper (Scram magazine editor and publisher and co-author of Lost In the Grooves: Scram's Capricious Guide To The Music You Missed) has written about this epic album for Continuum Books' 33 1/3 series--a collection of pocket-sized all-out tributes to favorite rock and roll albums.

Since Aeroplane was released in 1998, the album still steadily sells purely on word of mouth. Popular culture magazines never understood the genius of singer/songwriter Jeff Magnum's bizarre yet powerful lyrics, or his heartfelt, if off-key delivery. But fans read the lyrics from and listen to Aeroplane as if they're receiving the gospel. Jamey Huggins (Of the band, Montreal) describes in the book's introduction that Aeroplane is like listening to a religious man speaking his bit of the liturgy. He admits, "I've cried while listening to the album."

Fans have many different interpretations and analyses of the lyrics of this album. A reoccurring motif is Anne Frank and the Holocaust. Magnum was heavily influenced by Anne Frank's The Diary of a Young Girl while writing this album, carrying her diary around with him even after he finished.

Author Kim Cooper does a marvelous job offering interpretations of the lyrics without opinionated views. She says, Consider the following as a series of cover versions, a layering of possible and partial interpretations that are needed to be transparent. One of Kim Cooper's best and most intellectual interpretations was referred to the closing line in the album's sixth track, "Holland 1945."

And it's so sad to see the world agree / That they'd rather see their faces fill with flies / All when I'd want to keep white roses in their eyes

Kim Cooper points out, for example, a WWII reference about the "White Roses," a group of martyrs in Nazi Germany that used to write negative letters about the Nazi party to German citizens.

The book starts with Jeff's childhood and his relationship with the rest of the band members (also people from the Elephant 6 collective). Then, like a biography, the book follows the lives of the band members until the actual recording and writing process of the album. Aeroplane closes with what has happened with the band since this monumental recording and what became of Jeff Magnum. (Since this album's release, he has only played one post-Aeroplane song).

Kim Cooper did an excellent job proficiently analyzing one of the most misunderstood albums of our time. Not overlooking a single aspect of the album, there is even a chapter on the artwork. The interview tidbits and short stories from the band are quite interesting and flow well with the rest of the book. Fans of the album will adore this book, and is a great reminder of one of the best albums ever made. (Michael Mofsen)

FROM HERE TO OBSCURITY, 12/30/05

What a beautiful dream
That could flash on the screen
In a blink of an eye and be gone from me
Soft and sweet
Let me hold it close and keep it here with me

If you're like me, you love Neutral Milk Hotel's In The Aeroplane Over The Sea with a passion that few other albums achieve, and you have been looking forward to the 33 1/3 book for as long as you've known about it. Well, ok, there's probably only 1000 or so people in the country who fall into that category, but MAN, what a great album and what a great book about it.

Kim Cooper (the editrix of Lost In The Grooves, Bubblegum Music Is The Naked Truth, and Scram Magazine) gets to the heart of the story about this album. As NMH fans know, Jeff Mangum produced only one prior NMH album, On Avery Island (released in 1996), which was pretty much created without a band, then brought in a group that became the NMH that we all knew and loved. NMH put out the amazing In The Aeroplane Over The Sea in 1998, went on a short tour to support the album, then more or less disappeared. I remember when they came to Chapel Hill on that tour, but I didn't go see them because I thought I'd have plenty of options to see them again. I was wrong.

Cooper spent some time with Jeff Mangum while researching the book, and it shows, despite his unwillingness to be directly quoted, in her insight into his elusive genius. She also spoke with the other major members and friends of the band, who provided her with the in-stories that show exactly how this band bottled the lightning in 1998. Cooper's depth of research and sympathy for her subject are wonderful to read.

I pitched Richard and Linda Thompson's Shoot Out The Lights to 33 1/3, and I can say with confidence that this is exactly the sort of book I'd attempt to write about that album if the editors give me the go-ahead. Some of the other 33 1/3 books have been too much about the ego of the author; Cooper disappears into her narrative, and her book is infinitely better for it. (Hayden Childs)

BLOGCRITICS.ORG, 12/29/05

The popularity of Neutral Milk Hotel's In the Aeroplane Over the Sea never really registered with me until recently. I had assumed it was an album that a lot of people had heard, but the latter-day cult phenomenon surrounding it had eluded me. This book, 29th in Continuum's 33 1/3 series which examines "critically acclaimed and much-loved albums" (think liner notes expanded over a hundred pages), informed me that 50,000 copies of this record have been copped over the last two years - over a third of the album's total sales. Considering Aeroplane was released in 1998, the figure is a little staggering. If Aeroplane isn't seen by everyone as a classic, it seems that the more time passes, the more it will be cemented as such: unpretentious, complicated, postmodern without the sag of postmodernism, it's certainly a word-of-mouth success whose momentum only seems to be growing.

Kim Cooper edits Scram magazine and co-edited a couple of books you might have heard of. And given the dearth of reliable information on the band and the album, she deserves major credit for constructing an oral history this detailed. Her information and quotes come from almost all of the people involved, with the exception of Jeff Mangum himself, who predictably declined to be interviewed (but gave his blessing). And so the most valuable thing about the book is that it cleans and polishes the murky circumstances that hang around Aeroplane. The so-called myth machine of Neutral Milk Hotel is enormous; that Cooper's book is able to clear a little of the smoke around the character of Jeff Mangum, the making of the album, and years of message board speculation is extremely welcome. And it's a good story: full of endearing and eccentric musicians you can't help but admire, Cooper's prose seems to fall with a miraculous ease over their words and personalities.

The book is slim little volume, short and steadily paced: it begins with Jeff and company in elementary school, moves into the formation of the Elephant 6 Collective, then breaks into a gallop when In the Aeroplane Over the Sea begins to form into something palpable. The richest chapter describes the recording sessions for Aeroplane: producer Robert Schneider's detailed explanation of the hows and whys of the recording sessions illuminate not only how an album gets made, but the deeper nature of the recording, the somewhat magical way a constantly changing group of songs by a motley crew of musicians got channeled into an album. And luckily, the griefs that might be raised about the book are few: some might find Cooper's song-by-song analysis a little indulgent, if forgivable, and it certainly doesn't offer anything solid about Jeff Mangum's reasons for dropping out of sight. In fact, because he doesn't offer any words toward it, Mangum is drawn as a mysterious character: built out of his actions and the words of his friends, the introverted and emotional bandleader behind it all is a little sketchy. It's too bad he can't be delineated more than he is, but after all, the book isn't a biography, and Mangum's reclusiveness is part of the allure (make sure to check out the bit about the obsessive fans).

These are just minor quibbles, in other words, and Kim Cooper's book gets an "A" for doing exactly what it sets out to do. If you're a fan, this is essential reading; if you're a little curious and you find ten bucks in your pocket, this is an illuminating little volume. And if you're not convinced by Aeroplane, and you feel like Jeff Mangum's music sounds like an off-key dude singing nonsense, this might help you understand why it's so beloved. (Jon Cameron)

This review is also posted on the Modern Pea Pod.

EAST BAY EXPRESS, 12/14/05

The Aeroplane Flies High
The devout, ever-multiplying cult of Neutral Milk Hotel should perhaps prepare for a second coming.
By Rob Harvilla

The most influential indie-rock record of the past decade reverently declares I love you Jesus Christ, features the songs "Two-Headed Boy" (parts one and two) and "The King of Carrot Flowers" (part one, then parts two and three combined), uses semen as a lyrical motif, crushes heavily on Anne Frank, lists a zanzithophone player in its liner notes, and whips up an unholy racket like several punk rockers and a Bulgarian wedding band trapped in an elevator together, desperately screaming for help. Stranger things will never happen.

Fortunately, Neutral Milk Hotel's In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, a carefully guarded secret upon its release in 1998, has been happening ever since. The record's vibrant, chaotic Salvation Army Marching Band sound and surrealist wordplay has inspired current big-shots from the Decemberists to the Arcade Fire to Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. Mysterious NMH mastermind Jeff Mangum -- who all but disappeared shortly after Aeroplane's release -- became a full-fledged reclusive genius deity, a beloved Salinger for the Pitchfork set. Pitchfork itself, meanwhile, recently deep-sixed the tepid Aeroplane review the online rock-crit site had originally run and replaced it with a fawning, triumphant 10.0 coronation.

Seven years later, the record's influence and capacity to fascinate have swelled to gargantuan proportions. Now, Los Angeles-based writer and critic Kim Cooper -- a devout lover of bubblegum pop and so-called "unpopular culture" via her zine Scram -- has taken the first real crack at unraveling Aeroplane's mystique, penning a tome for Continuum Books' immensely popular 331/3 series. Each selection is a pocket-sized hundred-or-so-pager devoted to the genesis, construction, and aftermath of one record, and although the series has enjoyed success with paeans to classics like the Smiths' Meat Is Murder and Prince's Sign 'O' the Times, Cooper's Aeroplane volume might be its biggest hit yet.

The record's ongoing critical revisionism has helped, of course, but Kim insists that word of mouth has slowly turned Neutral Milk Hotel from near-unknown to near-mythic. "I think it's just based on how many people love it," she explains. "People get very evangelical about this album. A record review can't do that. Who really cares if the record's got a 10.0, compared to sitting down with a friend who plays a song for you and it blows your mind?"

Kim's book is a fairly straightforward rise-and-fall narrative, beginning with a gang of Louisiana college radio rats who migrate on a whim to Athens, Georgia, while slowly coalescing into the Elephant 6 collective, a loose-knit crew of psychedelic-pop artistes who've found success with bands like Olivia Tremor Control and Of Montreal, but undoubtedly peaked with Neutral Milk Hotel. In-depth interviews with friends and collaborators -- including pop aficionado Robert Schneider, who produced Aeroplane at Pet Sounds, his Denver studio -- fill it out, but the famously distant Mangum transcends and haunts it all. He doesn't talk to Kim on the record -- "He didn't immediately say no, and ultimately he didn't say yes," she explains -- but you get just enough of a sense of the guy, from his affinity for rehearsing in the bathroom to his night terrors to his apparent obsession with Anne Frank's harrowing WWII artifact, The Diary of a Young Girl.

Aeroplane perfected a psychotic carnival sound (from expertly fuzzed-out barnburners like "Holland 1945" to sweet, cryptic ballads like the title track), but Mangum's surrealist lyrics still dominate, filled with lovesick two-headed freaks floating in jars, semen-stained mountaintops, and flaming pianos, apartment buildings, and human heads. Cryptic Anne Frank references abound, but on the chilling "Oh Comely" -- a showcase for Mangum's mournfully strummed acoustic guitar and braying, famously polarizing voice -- he careens though verses of fantastically twisted imagery before settling on the shockingly direct:

And I know they buried her body with others

Her sister and mother and five hundred families

And will she remember me fifty years later

I wish I could save her in some sort of time machine

The Jeff/Anne love affair is a strange and sometimes uncomfortable pairing. "Picture the Franks in their Dutch hidey-hole, 1944," Cooper writes. "Picture the Elephant 6 gang fifty years later, rock 'n' roll and road trips and DIY. Incongruous worlds, but the sets collide, and somehow fit perfectly together." Maybe not perfectly -- though plenty of critics hate E6 and Neutral Milk in particular, it's doubtful they've ever seriously considered genocide.

Over the phone, Kim explains it a bit more convincingly. "I think it was a personal connection with her as a writer and as a person, this really lovely adolescent who was just kind of flowering and becoming an adult and an intellectual, and it was all just wiped away by forces so much more powerful than her," she explains. "Some people think that he was in love with her."

Does she think so? "I think he loved her the way that you love anyone whose story really touches you. You want the best for them, and you can't help them, and that's where you get I wish I could save her in some sort of time machine."

At first it's off-putting that Kim largely avoids probing the meaning or backstory behind Aeroplane's beguiling lyrics -- she tacked on a track-by-track analysis at her editor's request -- but ultimately it makes sense to leave all that to your own inclination and imagination. Mangum's seclusion is also a fuzzy affair, but though his refusal to record, perform, or submit to interviews shortly after the album's release was partly due to private, personal issues, Kim's book heavily implies that much of it was showbiz, borne of Mangum's desire to go out with a bang, slowly work his devotees into a deifying lather, and then descend from the mountain years later with a spectacular follow-up. Urban legend insists he's gone completely bonkers, but the facts suggest he knows exactly what he's doing -- in her text, Kim makes the point of noting that Mangum is alive, lucid, and sane.

"If you listen to the music, it's obvious that there's a lot of thought that goes into everything," Cooper says. "It's not very random. ... There's a certain elegance to just walking away and leaving this kind of resounding note in the air."

And lo, just as Kim's book comes out, new Neutral Milk Hotel demos surface online, capping a year that also saw Mangum show up onstage with old E6 buddies such as the Circulatory System and Olivia Tremor Control. The Aeroplane revival has reached critical mass, and the Great Comeback may in fact be upon us.

"That's certainly what [paramour and, coincidentally, zanzithophonist] Laura Carter thought he was doing," Kim concludes. "That he was echoing artists from the past he liked who disappear for periods, and then come back when nobody's expecting something, and really blowing people's minds. I hope he does." Whether you know it or not, so do you.

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NEW YORK PRESS

BRIEFLY NOTED

By Brian Heater

In the final chapter of Kim Cooper’s meditation on Neutral Milk Hotel’s album In the Aeroplane over the Sea (Continuum Press, 104 pages, $9.95), the author tells of visibly fatigued frontman Jeff Mangum getting up in front of a crowd, apologizing for the “sick parts” and introducing a new composition, then launching in to what, to date, is the only post-Aeroplane song he’s performed in public, ending with the couplet “Knowing God in Heaven never could forgive him / So I took a hammer and nearly beat his brains.” The words, coupled with Mangum’s physical state and his subsequent retreat from the public eye may not help in a defense of Mangum’s much-debated sanity. They are, though, the stuff of rock legend, and Aeroplane is lousy with the stuff. Issued in 1998, its cult following has grown ever since. Neutral Milk Hotel’s sophomore record means an awful lot of things to an awful lot of people. This may not be Let it Be, but it certainly warrants the in-depth treatment that is the 33 1/3 series’ forte.

The book’s opening chapters relate the history of the Elephant 6 Collective, beginning with Mangum’s humble beginnings in the tiny college town of Ruston, La., as told through interviews with fellow Collective members including The Apples in Stereo’s Robert Schneider and Scott Spillane of The Gerbils and NMH. (Noticeably absent are any quotes from the notoriously reclusive Mangum.) While the back story is thin, Cooper works with what she has, telling some nice stories about musicians sharing boom box recordings.

A later chapter finds Cooper analyzing the record track-by-track, offering some compelling readings of the album’s often impenetrable imagery. The book concludes with an account of Mangum’s suspected psychosis, using quotes from his close friend (and longtime Elf Power bandmember) Laura Carter to refute them. When it’s all over, there seem to be more unanswered questions than we started with. Still, the ride is certainly worth the price of admission.

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REAL DETROIT WEEKLY 12/7/05

By Keith N. Dusenberry
Up and Over: Neutral Milk Hotel

In 1998, Neutral Milk Hotel released their second and final album, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. It is among the best records ever made: a twisted, surreal world of fuzzy acoustic guitars, horn parts in turns blaring and mournful, unusual background instruments and the wavering but sure voice of bandleader Jeff Mangum. The album’s lyrical topics range from Siamese twin sisters to cannibalism and religion … with a deep, recurring focus on Anne Frank.

For a small community of obsessive fans, these aren’t songs, they’re hymns. Jeff Mangum’s near-total disappearance from public life shortly after Aeroplane’s release only fuels the fires of their intrigue. Much of the Neutral Milk story has been pieced together over the years, but never as comprehensively as in Kim Cooper’s Neutral Milk Hotel’s In The Aeroplane Over the Sea.

The latest release in Continiuum Publishing’s 33 1/3 series, Cooper’s slim, pithy book traces the band members’ younger years before settling into an exploration of Neutral Milk's development within the circle of Athens, Georgia musicians (including Elf Power, Apples In Stereo and The Gerbils) collectively known as Elephant 6. Through extensive interviews and thoughtful research, Cooper details Neutral Milk’s evolution from Jeff’s solo bedroom project to the bands’ group incarnation, Aeroplane’s recording and the band’s dissolution at Jeff’s behest.

The book’s greatest strength comes from Cooper’s ability to avoid mythologizing while remaining sympathetic to the band’s highly protective fans. “I was very hesitant to seem like a peeping Tom and to seem like I was exploiting them,” Cooper says. “I feel like what there is to be said about [Neutral Milk] is that this doesn’t have to be unique. They have so many fans — so many people love this record — and I wish that every one of them who comes to this book will come away from reading it thinking, ‘This is not something special that only rock and roll stars can have — this kind of connection with my friends, this kind of creative garden where we can all work together and help each other be what we were meant to be. It’s not only possible — it’s essential.’”

Despite what fans fond of the outsized Neutral Milk legend want to believe, Cooper — who spoke with Jeff a number of times regarding the book and got his blessing, though he declined to be interviewed on the record — says the band’s normalness is part of the appeal: “They’re so ordinary. They’re not like these bigger than life people … that’s what’s so cool. It’s not like they went away into some little secret room and they came out with something brilliant and then showed it to the world. It’s more like they were able to make music and beautiful art surrounded by noise and chaos and people poking their heads in the door and seeing what they were doing. There was no privacy and there was no expectation of, ‘Quiet please, genius at work.’”

Ordinary or not, the question that looms large in Neutral Milk fans’ minds remains: Will Jeff Mangum ever again release music to the public? Cooper doesn’t know for sure, but says, “I got a sense that he’s still a very intellectually lively and creative person.” | RDW

Email a two-headed boy: keith@realdetroitweekly.com.

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Amazon.com reader reviews

Five Stars - Surprising answers to FAQ's, January 27, 2006
Reviewer: Scott Bresinger

The story of the creation of Neutral Milk Hotel's masterpiece "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea" is interesting in itself--especially if you're a music lit junkie--but just as interesting (and mysterious) is what came after. After the album's release in February '98 and the subsequent tour to promote it, NMH mastermind Jeff Mangum has recorded precisely...nothing. He just disappeared from the music map even quicker than he appeared. This has of course led to all sorts of wild speculation--chief among them that Mangum has gone insane Syd Barrett-style and is incapable of resuming his career. Writer Kim Cooper's history of the Neutral Milk Hotel enigma answers that particular FAQ and many others as well, but be warned--the answers are more surprising, and surprisingly mundane, than you can imagine.

Since this book is part of Continuum's 33 1/3 series--short books about the making of famous or influential popular music albums--the scope is limited somewhat. In this case, Mangum is the main "character," although many of the people who know or worked with him are interviewed. Interentingly enough, Mangum himself declined to be interviewed directly, but we are told he supports the book nonetheless. Those hoping to see the complete lyrics for "Aeroplane" will also be disappointed, but there is at least one web site that has them (thank you Google!). Despite these seeming shortcomings, the narrative told here is clear, precise and illuminating. In one chapter, Cooper speculates about what the lyrics might mean, which the reader can choose to ignore, although for me it clarified some areas that I found problematic.

For instance, while I'm a huge, even obsessive, fan of the album, the first time I heard it I got a bit worried by the beginning of "The King of Carrot Flowers Part II & III," where Mangum sings "I love you Jesus Christ..." Now, as a proud and unrepentent atheist, this is bound to be a problem for me. Cooper acknowledges that this "is the spot where aggressively non-Christian listeners have to make a conscious decision to stay with the music." Before this book, I'd have to basically ignore that part to fully enjoy the album. Cooper makes clear, however, that whatever Mangum's beliefs are, and no matter how earnest and sincere (and they are), Mangum's approach to Christ is very different than the fundementalist lunatics who are currently ruining this country for everyone else. In fact, in his embrace of a wide array of music, thought and philosophy, Mangum is something like a Christian Buddhist, if that makes any sense. Of course, if you expect it to make sense, then this definitely isn't the album for you, and Cooper's book won't help you any. For fans and fence-sitters alike, this book is essential reading, however.

Now, about Mangum's vanishing act. In the final chapter, Cooper delves into what caused it and even raises the possibility (however remote at this point) of his return. The short version is that Mangum just felt like doing something different, and just decided not to "ride the circus wheel," as one lyric goes. While this thought has occured to many different musical geniuses, like Kurt Cobain, Mangum's exit is definitely more peaceful, and not as final. The example of Soft Machine founder Robert Wyatt is mentioned; during his mid-70's peak, he disappeared for several years, only to return more prolific than ever. I guess you could also throw in Patti Smith, who at one point left her solo career behind to become a full time desperate housewife. Whether Mangum will choose to follow suit (except for the housewife part, of course) is anyone's guess, including Cooper, but the very mention of that in this book is tantalizing. In the meantime, fans can satisfy themselves with this short but fascinating book, and as always with the small but brilliant body of work that Mangum has provided.

Five Stars - An incredible book, December 7, 2005
Reviewer: Chris Molnar (Grand Rapids, MI)
Let me first say this: I am incredibly biased. ITAOTS is one of my all-time favorite albums, and I have many memories inextricably tied to it. I would argue, however, that appreciation of the album is not even a prerequisite to enjoy the book. Kim Cooper has compiled a beautiful account of a group of friends who, through good fortune, a wealth of talent, and most of all an undying belief in the power of music, created one of the most powerful records ever set to tape.

Obsessively detailing recording techniques, the origins of the songs, and the background of all involved, Cooper interviews all principles (except for elusive singer/songwriter Jeff Mangum, though I maintain that this only adds to the power of the book), creating a complete and fascinating story. She has a novelist's eye for the necessary detail and for plot development, and we become incredibly attached to the hugely intelligent and friendly Elephant 6 clique that helped the album to fruition.

This book is obviously a must-read for all interested in the Elephant 6 Collective or Neutral Milk Hotel, but at the same time it is too good to remain within those crowds. That would be like preaching to the choir. We have here an inspirational document of the continuing power of music, something that should be on required reading lists in every music program in every school. This here is proof that all outcasts and misfits who have found solace in the healing properties of music can succeed beyond their wildest dreams.

Jeff Mangum may or may not produce an album again, but ITAOTS is good enough for now. This book is not only a worthy tribute, but an accomplishment in and of itself. Congratulations, Ms. Cooper, you have written a masterpiece.

Five Stars - Fantastic Overview of a Legendary Band, December 2, 2005
Reviewer: J. Kuykendall (Madison, WI USA)
I dreaded this book so much. I assumed it would be another convoluted attempt to interpret Netural Milk Hotel's surrealistic lyrics and connect them into a narrative that exists only in one person's imagination, offering no insight into the band itself, not to mention its ringleader and savant singer/songwriter, Jeff Mangum--the sort of thing that generally keeps me away from Neutral Milk Hotel messageboards and fellow fans. But Kim Cooper devotes only one very brief chapter to that hopeless task, and spends the rest of the book chronicling the history of the creative musical collective that surrounds Neutral Milk, "Elephant 6," and showing how Mangum was always at the center, until, after his sophomore album's unexpected success, he suddenly retreated from the spotlight, which caused some to unfairly (and inaccurately) label him the indie rock equivalent of the mentally ill Syd Barrett.

Cooper interviews Robert Schneider (Apples in Stereo), Bryan Poole (Elf Power), Ben Crum (Great Lakes), and Laura Carter, Scott Spillane, and Julian Koster (all of NMH), as well as others connected to Elephant 6, for a pretty complete history that follows this constructed family of musicians from Ruston, Louisiana to Athens, Georgia, with stops in Denver and New York City. (Jeff Mangum declined to be interviewed, which gives the narrative the odd feeling that its central character is deceased.) There are some vivid and funny anecdotes about life lived in uncomfortably close communal quarters with little food and money, with Mangum sleeping in a haunted closet (which informed the song "Ghost"), or working out songs in the bathroom, of life on the road, and Spillane almost losing thousands of dollars in tour money at a Pizza Hut.

I've been an Elephant 6 fan for a long time, hung out at concerts, obsessively collected limited edition vinyl singles, et cetera., so I devoured this all in a sitting, but I was surprised to find how deeply moved I was. I felt stunned. Kind of like listening to a Neutral Milk Hotel album.

Five Stars - A definite must-have for the E6 junkie., December 2, 2005
Reviewer: R. Settle
It's great to see Elephant Six being represented in this consistently insightful series of books.
Cooper reveals so much about Jeff Mangum's early life as an artist and music lover that will satisfy even the most obsessive NMH fans. There is also a slew of never before seen photos. You can't love Neutral Milk Hotel and not read this.