One of the most mythic albums of recent rock history is Neutral Milk Hotel's In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. Other classics of the ’90s—Nevermind, OK Computer, The Chronic, Automatic for the People—were instant. All, on first listen, virtually introduced themselves as seminal. Perhaps it had only to do with the fact that they were on majors and NMH was on an indie. But at any rate it has been fascinating to watch Aeroplane grow in stature over the last eight years. Pitchfork, for instance, listed the album at number 85 on its first Top 100 Albums of the 1990s; then they re-polled themselves a few years later, and the album was number 3. Soon enough I think rock critics will find themselves unconsciously touting Aeroplane as one of the most influential albums of the ’90s, right along with Nirvana and Radiohead’s output. But it’s more accurate, I think, to call it one of the most influential albums of the naughts. I would wager it’s probably sold more copies in the last four years than it did in its first four.
And it’s all the more fascinating because the man behind the band, Jeff Mangum, went Salinger on us and all but disappeared after this album was done. Between Mangum’s enigmatic absence, his surreal, literary lyrics—which have a layered depth that outdoes both Thom Yorke and Michael Stipe on their best days—and of course the wonderful album itself, Aeroplane is a mythology unto itself.
Which brings me to Kim Cooper’s book, the latest in Continuum’s 33 1/3 series on seminal albums. Cooper, who also runs Scram Magazine, tackles the origins of the Elephant 6 collective, the lyrical depth of Aeroplane, and the rise of NMH’s status from indie oddball to influential icon. For those in Los Angeles, Cooper will be discussing her book at Book Soup in Hollywood on Wednesday at 7:00 pm. If you can't make it, the LA Alternative interviews Cooper here.
