Limited edition book packaging of her 2008 album, Aimee's seventh solo release to date. The album is a return to form after the artistic detours of 2005's concept album The Forgotten Arm and 2006's Christmas CD One More Drifter in the Snow. Featuring thirteen new original songs, producer Paul Bryan describes the record as "deceptively powerful...very rich and grand-sounding." The songs range from the stripped-down-to-basics of "Columbus Avenue," to the almost Cars-esque synth-pop of "Freeway," alongside the classic Jimmy Webb/Glen Campbell-era "Phoenix," and the hushed creepiness of "Little Tornado." The final song "Ballantines" is a duet with Sean Hayes complete with barroom piano and trombone section. All songs were penned by Mann with the exception of "True Believer" which was co-written with fellow singer-songwriter Grant Lee Phillips.Despite that unwieldy, rather craven title, @#%&! Smilers has already been acclaimed by some critics as the best record in Aimee Mann's long career. Few fans will be disappointed. The opening "Freeway" may be built around a fairly slight play on words ("you got a lot of money but you can't afford the freeway" goes the chorus) but the nagging melody and expansive synth-laden arrangement, reminiscent of her East Coast counterparts and fellow suburban critics Fountains of Wayne, is nigh on irresistible. "Stranger Into Starman" is a mere snippet, and all the better for its brevity, while "Looking For Nothing" is a perfect example of the southern Californian blankness Mann has captured for years now. The lush, orchestrated country-rock of "Phoenix" rhymes the title with "Kleenex" and truly captures the mood of someone leaving for good. Sean Hayes sounds uncannily like a boozy Antony Hegarty on the deceptively jolly closer "Ballantines," named for a whisky, while author Dave Eggers picks up a credit for his rather good "whistling" on the gloomy, undeniably pretty "Little Tornado." The painfully detailed "Thirty One Today," a distant memory for Mann, is another successful attempt to voice dissatisfaction. Only the chirpy horns on the admonishing "Borrowing Time" actually lighten the mood. Smilers is an excellent record, cleverly thought out throughout. But the smiles here are rueful at best -- Steve Jelbert
