The rudimentary cover art of Peter Case’s Doctor Moan belies the sophistication of its contents. But the Buffalo NY native long ago proved how savvy a communicator he is: eschewing his folk roots to form that impassioned New Wave band The Plimsouls, he was able to conjure up a cult following for the group–one maintained thru recurrent reunions over the years–before returning to what’s now called Americana with his 1986 eponymous solo debut (produced by none other than T-Bone Burnett in one of his most sympathetic collaborations).
Because Case plays the bulk of Doctor Moan on a Steinway piano, performances like “Have You Ever Been In Trouble?” thrive on their immediacy. This opener is one of the two co-writes here (with Warren Klein) and in its own way, it’s just as effective a means of personal expression as “Give Me Five Minutes More” (lyrics supplied by Michael Lally).
As with the author’s cheery wheeze of harmonica on the latter, Chris Joyner’s organ backdrops echo the healthily detached and curious nostalgia of “That Gang Of Mine.” Meanwhile, “Downtown Nowhere’s Blues” illustrates why no drummer was necessary on this record (Jon Flaugher plays bass): Peter’s percussive approach to the ivories renders redundant any additional emphasis on rhythm.
Yet Case instinctively knows how to adjust his approach to the keyboard. His comparatively gentle touch underlines the uplifting delicacy in “Eyes Of Love” and his voice radiates the same devotional intimacy: this is music that will not remain in the background because the artist’s engagement in its creation compels listening to the exclusion of other activity.
In fact, the riveting nature of the performances is an even more prominent distinction of this than the arrangement of the Beatle-esque “Wandering Days.” The only guitar-based track here, in combination with the jaunty instrumental “4D,” specifically stipulates how Peter is creating a “Brand New Book of Rules” for himself on Doctor Moan.
For all intents and purposes, Case is reinventing his artistic identity with this LP. Yet he’s wise enough to draw upon the practical lessons of previous outings. For instance, the sequencing of the cuts conjures an arresting cycle of moods through the juxtaposition of the thoughtful gospel-tinged “Ancient Sunrise” with those aforementioned strains of fretboard-centric folk rock.
Add to that pragmatic approach how the Kevorkian Mastering preserves the spontaneous realism of Case’s conversational readings of the material. The sound is so big and clear that a number like “Girl In Love With A Shadow” doesn’t require printed lyrics: the contrast between piano and organ is sufficient to create an evocative atmosphere on its own terms.
By the time Peter Case concludes the roughly forty-five minutes or so that is Doctor Moan, he has fully reconfigured a new persona for himself in line with the album’s title. In doing so with the same keen intelligence by which he wrought 1989’s The Man with the Blue Post-Modern Fragmented Neo-Traditionalist Guitar, he also impresses with the depth of soulful vulnerability that permeates these recordings.
