Over the Rhine

Item: The Cutting Room Floor
Author: Josh Hurst

The Cutting Room Floor

(2002)

Reviewed by Josh Hurst

Discogs Apple Music

Label independentThe Rebel Base2002

adult alternative alternative country alternative rock folk rock

I'd take a plate of fresh, hot, steamy lasagna over a slab of two-day-old leftover lasagna any day. Who wouldn't? But then again, I'd much prefer the old lasagna to a platter of, say, fresh McDonald's hamburgers.

I have nothing against McDonald's, understand; it's just that lasagna is much better food, even if it is a couple of days old. Compared to most anything else, lasagna is gourmet. The same goes for Over the Rhine, the best kept secret in American music. It should come as no surprise, then, that The Cutting Room Floor, the duo's new collection of B-sides and leftover songs, is even more interesting than most bands' normal studio releases.

Released through the band's website as a thank-you to fans for making the band's 2001 Films for Radio and the subsequent tour such a success, The Cutting Room Floor is not dissimilar to U2's Rattle and Hum: It's a sonic journal from a very strange trip, and it's not even close to being cohesive or balanced. Taken for what it is, though- a collector's item for diehard fans- Cutting Room Floor is an engaging collection to hold us over until the band's next studio work, and a telling look at the making of the already-classic Films.

As far as new tracks go, "Toledo" is probably best left as a B-side, but it's still a beautiful piece. Think of a cross between the hushed beauty of Good Dog Bad Dog and the eclectic, cinematic soundscapes of Films. "Green-Clouded Swallowtail" is the disc's biggest curveball, a swaggering, soulful dose of pure country. The band tackles the genre with grace and true musicianship; add another style to the OtR repertoire.

Also included in this thirteen-song set are several new (and old) versions of classic Over the Rhine tracks. A "Beatbox Mix" of "If Nothing Else" lacks the charm and grandeur of the original, but the song is surprisingly danceable, and Karin Bergquist's rerecorded vocal is, as always, awe-inspiring. She's the kind of hypnotic, soulful vocalist who could sing a jingle for Spam and make it sound like poetry, and she proves it on an acoustic, live version of "Give Me Strength." What was once an exotic, electronica-driven pop song shows up here as a simple, gorgeous acoustic ballad, performed entirely by Karin on the piano.

Demos of "It's Never Quite What It Seems" and "Fairpoint Diary" both capture a raw sophistication that actually better the final album versions. Even more mesmerizing is a live cover of Neil Young's "Helpless," recorded with country singers Buddy and Julie Miller shortly after 9/11; the song is glorious, chilling, priceless. Of course, the Millers' performances sound like a cat being beat over the head with a violin when held up beside Bergquist, but that could be said of just about any singer, and the song is still the album highlight.

If you can even call this an album, that is. It's really not. It's unbalanced and erratic, both in terms of style and in terms of quality, and it's certainly not a disc I would recommend to new fans or to the general public. And I must admit, I was rather hoping for a new version of "The Body is a Stairway of Skin," a song that's just begging to be remixed. But, complaints aside, The Cutting Room Floor is a worthy bearer of OtR's name, and a terrific souvenir for rabid fans. Films for Radio was, after all, a wild ride; let's just hope this collection can get us through until the next one begins.