Time Machine

Tim Minchin couldn’t have chosen a more appropriate title for his second album, a collection of rerecorded and reimagined versions of songs the singer, songwriter, comedian and composer wrote in his twenties, between the mid-’90s and mid-2000s. As such, <i>Time Machine</i> is a portrait of a young man pursuing a career as a serious recording artist before he found success in musical comedy. And while there are familiar comedic touches to live favourites “Dark Side” and “Rock n Roll Nerd”, there is a quiet devastation to tracks such as “Pop Song”, a melodically rich AOR number with the chorus, “In the morning/I’m gonna make love to you/In the evening I’m gonna pack my suitcase/Then I’m gonna break your fuckin’ heart”. Reminiscent of the piano-driven storytelling of The Whitlams and Ben Folds Five, “Ruby” is a personal account of a friend falling out with their mother that acknowledges parents are flawed and not perfect; “The Song of the Masochist” is a swaggering jazz-rock kiss-off to a former partner (“You must think I’m a masochist/If you thought I’d just put up with this/And take you back again”). Even when injecting a little black humour into proceedings—“You Grew on Me” finds the singer comparing his devotion to a partner to a disease “…like a virus/Like meningococcal meningitis”—it’s offset by heartfelt sincerity (“The successful removal of you/Would probably kill me too”). The world may know Minchin for his musical comedy and for penning the acclaimed <i>Matilda the Musical</i>—now they can meet the man before that success.