Okkervil River’s ‘I Am Very Far’ vs. Schlafly’s AIPA
I haven’t done one of these reviews in a while. In fact, I once thought I’d do them all the time, but the timing just never worked. There have been a lot of records to review recently, but beer has been neglected. The recent arrival of Okkervil River’s new album and Schlafly’s AIPA came at the perfect time for me to throw down one of these ill-conceived reviews. I won’t bore you with the old template. Instead, I’ll bore you through my prose.
Why these two in this particular challenge? Well, aside from the timing of their releases, both record and beer share a decidedly American aesthetic. And in this time when America feels particularly good about itself, celebrating things that are very American just seems like the right thing to do. Okkervil River with its take on Americana and Schlafly’s attempt to make a big IPA like every other American craft brewer connect these two loves of mine, but which one wins out in the end?
I Am Very Far is not what we’d expect from Okkervil. It’s slick without losing heart. The emphasis is on the sound and production over the words, yet it’s impeccably written. Even the emotive qualities of a typical Okkervil record are absent without the album being dull and dry. It’s a great record without being a great Okkervil River record.
When I think of their progression, I think of a few other bands with similar trajectories. Bright Eyes’ Conor Oberst is a lot like Okkervil’s Will Sheff in that they are the primary piece in bands that feature the most confessional lyrics delivered in the most recognizable of voices. However, Sheff has placed more burden on a band that has not changed as much as Bright Eyes.
My Morning Jacket also comes to mind as a similarly positioned alt.country act that tried to step out with a new sound. In my opinion, MMJ flopped with Evil Urges, an album that saw the band take a major leap in aesthetic. It may or may not have sold well and did decently with the critics, but the project seemed to dash a lot of the momentum the band was building. Conversely, Okkervil River scores a huge success that both achieves a new direction without changing who Okkervil River is.
One cannot use the phrase “wall of sound” too often when describing this album. Will Sheff put his efforts into the production end rather than weaving intricately detailed narratives throughout his songs. The lyrical content is not lacking, but it’s not the typical, literary Sheff we’re used to. Where Fleet Foxes made the leap forward by saying something pointed and specific, Okkervil River made a similar leap by withholding some information. And this slick production is surprising for a band known more for folksiness and emotion-laced tales of woe. This is not your father’s confessional emo/alt.country.
Schlafly’s American India Pale Ale takes a similar path to enjoyment. It’s not the hop bomb so many us become accustomed to when there’s a yearly release featuring a hop-forward style. The American craft brew industry prides itself on upping the IBU ante with each new release, but this beer didn’t participate in such a hoppy arms race. Nope. The ABV in this year’s batch is actually lower than last year’s and the hop bill was also altered.
The AIPA has a few peers in these parts. There’s Bell’s notorious Two Hearted Ale with it’s Centennial-induced bitterness that packs quite the wallop when fresh. There’s also cross-state rival Boulevard Single-Wide IPA and its decidedly dry finish. Although all three are in the same category, none are exactly alike. Schlafly’s AIPA is sort of sweet at first taste. There’s certainly a bitter finish, but the middle is lacking that intense strain often associated with an American IPA. As the beer warms, however, a complexity is revealed. The aroma is straight-up hop pellets (so says the homebrewer) which is always pleasing to the nose.
Schlafly’s yearly stab at an American craft beer classic may not be the most overwhelming beer out there, but it’s balance is something sorely lacking in today’s market. Although not the hop bomb I expected upon first sip, the beer expands and satisfies as it warms. It’s not your everyday American India Pale Ale, but it’s a good one nonetheless.
Both the Okkervil River album and Schlafly AIPA surprised by not meeting my American expectations, but that might have been the most American thing to do. If there’s one thing people do in this country when perfecting their craft, it is doing the unexpected with said craft, pushing expectations. Sometimes those expectations are pushed to extremes where the product no longer resembles the original. In the case of this record and this beer, the product resembles the original in ways we did not expect. Okkervil River didn’t make another emo rock opera over folksy guitars and Will Sheff whines. Schlafly didn’t overdo it with the hops. Instead, both made calculated moves in creating balanced, enjoyable final products I will continue to enjoy.
Who wins this round? I call it a draw. The lesson I learned to not expect the expected from American craft means that we all win or something equally cheesy.
*Sorry for the lack of footnotes, footnote fans. Familial duties didn’t leave time for such supplements. Maybe next time. I also had no time to read this over. Make revision/editing comments below or just tell me what you generally think.
CoMusic Review: Ptarmigan – The Forest Darling
Here’s a review I wrote last week that was published over the weekend. I originally intended to have a beer post up, but Mother’s Day was a long day and left me without much time, energy, or motivation to finish the post. As you can see, I’m getting pretty deep into the local scene here as promised. It’s really sparked my overall interest in music lately. Surprisingly, it’s actually inspired me more when listening to new music by decidedly non-local bands. Still, there’s some good stuff here that stands on its own. The following review is no joke. Ptarmigan’s record is great, even if it doesn’t come in vinyl.
How is it that our little college town is blessed with so much great musical talent? Depending on your perspective, as long as these bands keep making music and don’t tour, they should remain our little secret forever. However, if a band like Ptarmigan takes their latest album, The Forest Darling, on the road, we won’t be seeing much of them anymore.
The Forest Darling is as good a record as I’ve heard this year. The trio pull from a wide array of influences to form a rather coherent eleven-song album that you should really check out. Those influences? The ones I hear and have read about include but are not limited to Peruvian forest sounds, early Modest Mouse, Born Ruffians, and The Flaming Lips. So, one can instantly see the appeal this record carries.
“Stillborn Kings” opens straight outta a mid-nineties Flaming Lips release before picking up the pace. The layered vocals create depth and complexity that is almost otherworldly. The song varies the tempo and has several pieces, all before building to a big crescendo and revealing some pretty fat/phat bass lines.
A steady groove carries “Where” with guitar licks floating just above the surface. Again, layers of vocals add to the overall musicality of the track. The bass lines really take hold in this track, revealing another aspect not often heard from a band that doesn’t include Mike Watt in their roster. There’s even some synthesized sounds in there that could easily make room for a horn section, demonstrating a rather high amount of diversity in just one track.
“Of the Hills and the Hurt” is a babbling brook. Intricate guitar noodling, keyboard flourishes, and tinny sounds I can’t quite place fill much of the space. Then, some noise comes just after the quiet, before settling into intricacies again.
The bass leads the way in “Primrose and Snapdragon” as sparse drumming joins the fray before some pretty ascorbic guitar work, falsetto, and a loud quiet dynamic that never grows old. To this point, this is the album’s shining, mid-tempo rocker du jour.
The somewhat bluesy “We the Forest” utilizes a nice start/stop dynamic that isn’t prevalent enough in rock music. This track is the most outward in regards to the forest theme with both its content and some well-placed bird samples. Maybe Patarmigan and Believers should get together for a bird sample competition. If you begin to notice a trend of bird noise in music, know that it started here in Columbia.
“Delta” is heavy on falsetto a la Caribou and some rock guitarin’ fun. So far, so good.
“The Quadrille” starts with hiking in the night forest before going all ragtag on you. Honestly, it’s my least favorite track of a stellar collection, but it also happens to be the most ambitious of the set. So, for that reason, they get kudos for taking some chances. Like most great music, it’s more interesting than bad. Certainly, this song deserves more discussion than this one paragraph.
“Sentient” opens like Clap Your Hands Say Yeah doing their best Cure impersonation and blows up into a Born Ruffians romp. If I haven’t convinced you yet to download this record, nothing will. This track is a real dancer as the guitar moves your feet and the bass your ass.
The best parts of Interpol are realized on the intro to “My Mind Bleeds” just before bassist and vocalist Peter Marting breaks in with some Denielson-esque whining. Guitarist Evan Walton actually carries this track with his dreamy guitar playing and drummer Ted Carstensen dutifully backs up as he does his best Jeremiah Green impersonation. Of all the tracks, musically this one reminds me most of early Modest Mouse.
“Migratory” starts with what sound like thunderstorms and some light acoustic guitar strumming. The dual vocals singing about a “southern feeling” are a nice touch that add more depth to a subtly great track. The song really picks up halfway through, complete with handclaps.
“Metronome” is a perfect ending to a great album. A slow build into a disco beat and quick tempo moves along until finally decomposing into a nice dance/rock song. The song breaks into a whole second part that just drives and grooves with subtle piano bits in the background.
This record is loaded with imagery and sounds from that aforementioned Peruvian forest. Sometimes it’s subtle, sometimes in your face. The aesthetic certainly pulls the entire piece together the way a good album should. Additionally, the multilayered vocal tracks and the up-front bass sets this record apart from many a indie rock release.
Ptarmigan demonstrate why three is a good number for a band. There’s balance between the three musicians in ability and dynamic. This is truly a gem that not enough people will hear and that’s okay with me. I like keeping local treasures a secret. However, I doubt they’ll stay that way for long if they keep putting out records like The Forest Darling.
Try a sample: Stillborn Kings (MP3)
Buy it: Bandcamp
Fleet Foxes – Helplessness Blues
Helplessness Blues, the Fleet Foxes’ sophomore effort, is the best folk record you’ve heard since…well…the last Fleet Foxes’ record[1]. It’s hard to fathom that such a decidedly uncool genre can occupy such a cool space in music. I credit Fleet Foxes’ craftsmanship[2] and their filling a need in music for this sort of thing. Plus, they have breathed fresh air into a genre that desperately needed it.
What is also unique is that Fleet Foxes continue Sub Pop’s evolution into a label that matches the preferences of their ever-aging audience. It’s completely fathomable to imagine old grunge dudes hanging around a campfire singing folk songs instead of “Touch Me I’m Sick.” Let’s just hope Fleet Foxes don’t go down the same road as their label mates Iron & Wine[3]. Helplessness suggests that won’t happen.
The biggest difference this time around for FF is movement away from a dependency on harmonies to carry their songs[4]. The harmonies are still there; they’re just not the dominant component anymore. This record is chocked full of varying instrumentation that borders on over-saturation without boring the listener[5]. Quite the contrary, in fact, the instrumentation proves that these young men are more than the collective effect of their voices. Not only is the instrumentation varied, but it is brought to the forefront as way to enrich the band’s sound.
Another area in which this Fleet Foxes’ album expands upon the last is in the development of frontman Robin Pecknold. As I listened to Helplessness, I couldn’t help but notice that one voice was rising above the others. It’s no secret that Pecknold has a pretty incredible voice, but this record features him more prominently than the last. There is even a point when his voice cracks a bit under the strain of emotion (“The Shrine/An Argument”)[6].
Then, there is Pecknold’s development as a songwriter. Lyrically, Fleet Foxes have typically been more impressionistic, vague, or even obtuse. However, this time out, Pecknold makes the narrative and emotions perfectly clear with great detail. The moment of uncertainty for a man between his youth and adulthood is pronounced throughout Helplessness, but Pecknold is the one who makes this crystal clear through his poetic tales.
“Montezuma” opens the record the way the debut left us with a lush[7] soundscape of voices over light instrumentation. However, the tenor of this album is much more somber and this is no more apparent in this album than on the first track. The realization of that purgatory between childhood and adulthood is fully apparent. The only thing that gets him through is to sing about it. And sing Robin Pecknold does.
With an arsenic violin break following the first verse, “Bedouin Dress” sets a new president instrumentally for Fleet Foxes. Pecknold’s seat atop the Fleet Fox mountain is apparent as this song feels as if it’s coming from him and the band dutifully backs him. The instrumentation is textured[8] and intricate without being showy or boring[9]. There’s a pace to this track that quickens the soul, something I don’t know I could have said on Fleet Foxes.
The band demonstrates that it’s more than echoey space as they fill every crack and crevice with voice and string on “Sim Sala Bim.” Even the quiet moments fill the speakers. Phil Eck[10] has truly outdone himself by capturing the echoes, ghosts, and every vibration created in every strum of a chord or harmonized word.
Speaking of echoes, “Battery Kinzie” displays a wall of sound that would have made Phil Spector proud. And above all that, Recknold’s words and voice stand out. That’s not to say the rest of the Foxes are useless. No. They fill the space that even Recknold’s voice cannot, accompanying their frontman as no one else could. Again, textures exist throughout. This track also displays how the harmonies have become the accompaniment to the FF sound and not the dominant characteristic.
“The Plains/Bitter Dancer” builds to some pretty epic proportions before breaking down into a classic Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young singalong. The tone is melancholy and moves at that new Fleet Foxes pace. Even the flute doesn’t make me wince at the folkiness. The second half mounts a gospel onslaught and almost blows the speakers. Almost.
The title track continues the theme of that quarter-life crisis[11] which is where I suppose the helplessness blues set in. Lost is the joy and naiveté of youth and in front lies the uncertainty of adulthood that does nothing but question one’s ideals. Recknold is spiraling through this song. I wondered if this sentiment grew immensely during the turbulent recording of the record. Things I’ve read say that the band had to scrap the first version of the album amidst illness and touring. Anyway, the song expresses a need to get lost in one’s work as a way to get past this critical point in development, just to find some peace.
“The Cascades” is a folky jam session that eventually gives way to the pageantry of “Lorelai,” a light, narrative of a devastating breakup, particularly as the words “I was old news to you then” are sung. Oddly, this sad, sad song is maybe the band’s poppiest to date. The sadness of a breakup continues with the somber-before-defiant “Someone You’d Admire.”
“The Shrine/An Argument” is the moment when Reckhold’s development as a singer comes through for me. He sings within himself before unleashing so much emotion that his voice gives under the pressure[12], just before he brings it together to harmonize perfectly with his band mates. Sure, in the recording process, this can be manufactured a bit, but it’s still impressive that they would try this live at some point[13]. This track is certainly one of the album’s most ambitious and challenging. The second half escalates almost to the point of an Animal Collective explosion, if that’s even possible in a folk song. The track closes with yet a third piece that is almost psychedelic, complete with a Coltrane-esque sax solo, brining this epic[14] track to conclusion.
“Blue-Spotted Tail” is the band’s Cat Stevens homage, unintentional or not. After the lushness and textured instrumentation of the rest of the record (along with the previous track’s experimentation), this song provides a bit of balance before the record closes for good with “Grown Ocean,” the closest the band comes to sounding rock ‘n roll. Still, the rolling nature of the track carries the listener from all the depths they’ve had to trudge in order to follow Fleet Foxes through meadows and mountains to the musical summit[15].
Fleet Foxes prove that expanding the prefect sound and putting out a sophomore record doesn’t have to mean death to a band. Helplessness Blues extend the Fleet Foxes legend and somehow makes it cool to listen to folk music again. Your mom might even like it[16].
Notes:
1This may or may not be true, but that first record stood out among so many others, regardless of genre.
2Here’s a recurring theme on the blog. I appreciate craftsmanship in its many forms.
3Iron & Wine is one of the great disappointments of the last decade. They started with such promise before Sam Beam went all Eagles on us.
4Don’t get me wrong. Those harmonies are some of the best in music, but they needed other components to their music.
5Sometimes too much is too much. I don’t know why it is, but some musicians and bands think adding more instruments is the way to improve the sound. However, twenty musicians overplaying mediocre music isn’t any better than three. Then, there are the exceptions. I still don’t know how Sufjan Stevens does it.
6I will bring this up again as it was a pretty significant moment for me in the record.
7I tried really hard to avoid the terms “lush” and “textured” in this review, but I can only do so much. For one, my vocabulary is limited. Second, I’m not paid to do this. So, you get what you get. Be on the lookout for a lush and textured review.
8See. I wasn’t kidding.
9There’s something about the technically proficient, showy, jammy bands that bore me to death. If I wanted to hear you masturbate, I’d put a mic in your bathroom. And that’s what it is (or can be): mental masturbation.
10Eck has been around forever producing and recording records in Seattle and throughout the Northwest. I think he’s had a hand in nearly every band I’ve ever liked from the region. He’s a vastly underrated record producer.
11A quarter-life crisis is what middle-to-upper-middle class white folk suffer from when they have too much education for the minimum wage jobs available to them. I hear it’s an epidemic. In a lot of ways, this album paints this issue in a serious light. The difference is that the boys in Fleet Foxes are doing something about it. They’re making music.
12I told you that I’d mention it again. Moments like these are important because they make the artist seem human, fallible. I don’t want a perfect recording. I prefer my music with imperfections like the people making the music.
13I get to see the band in July and hope to hear that same sort of performance then.
14Using the word “epic” to describe anything used to have meaning. Now, everyone overuses it. Not everything is epic. That’s why something is epic. Quit using the term to describe every night out, piece of bacon, or test. “Epic” is something bigger than life, huge. This is not a word to be used every day, hour, or sentence. God, I hate the internet sometimes.
15Talk about epic proportions and mental masturbation.
16That was my little segue into Mother’s Day weekend.
Upgrades in Production
One way bands try to evolve their sound is by upgrading their production. Some do this by hiring a better producer[1]. Another technique is to step into a higher-end studio. Pavement tried this on multiple occasions[2], but the songwriting and performances were the constant. So, even when a band makes this upgrade in production, they still have to bring solid songwriting and dynamic performances.
The Pains of Being Pure at Heart hired the legendary Flood as producer for their sophomore effort, Belong. The result is something closer to Siamese Dream-era Smashing Pumpkins rather than in-their-prime Smiths. Flood’s effect is striking and significant, but is it a good thing?
I don’t know that The Pains’ songwriting is up to the caliber of a Flood-produced record. That’s not to say that the music isn’t of high quality or that whatever Flood touches is gold. What it means is that this is a typical sophomore record to a pretty successful indie release. Debut records often capture the immediacy and naiveté of a young band, but follow-ups tend to come off as overly-calculated[3].
What the record does do is suggest a new direction or transition for the band. Left behind is Manchester jangle in favor of a bolder, sharper sound. Sadly, this kind of production is distracting to me[4]. I’ve had a hard time getting into the songs on Belong. The simplicity of The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’s debut doesn’t hold up to lush production like this. He isn’t called “Flood” for nothing as he fills every crack and crevice of tape with loads of sound and texture. It’s certainly an interesting album from an audiophile’s standpoint, but I’m struggling with the organic elements that seem to be missing.
Overproduction isn’t always the enemy. Wilco, Animal Collective, Destroyer, etc. have found ways to make it work, sometimes to the point of deconstruction[5]. However, these acts all have something The Pains lack: maturity. The band may sound like their from 80’s Manchester, but their songwriting suggests otherwise.
Conversely, Times New Viking actually stepped inside a recording studio for once and may have found a way to develop their material in a manner appropriate to their collective age. The band usually resorts to bedroom tapes and audio via VHS in the recording process as a way to include their fourth member, tape hiss[6]. For Dancer Equired, the Columbus, OH trio enlisted a real-life recording studio and the results are better than I expected.
Another legendary lo-fi band from Ohio once made a similar transition to a bigger, more polished studio sound with regrettable results. That band was Guided By Voices[7]. TNV has followed the GBV trajectory by putting out shitty recordings on a label specializing in lo-fi[8] before hitting the greener pastures at Matador. The two bands are often compared, but there is little similar outside of both bands being Buckeyes and famous for recording lo-fi gems galore.
Still, TVN’s decision to record like professionals was a good one. I always thought they had good songs, if you could hear them through fuzz and hiss. On Dancer Equired, the sound is certainly cleaned up, but it’s not a giant leap to Flood-like proportions that would have overwhelmed the band’s charm[9]. Instead, the minimal production feels right for this band. It’s a slow progression to accessibility that allows Dancer to be appreciated here, even if some would rather turn their back on the band[10].
Where The Pains made a quantum leap from recording studio to super-producer, Times New Viking simply left their bedroom for a recording studio. Little changed aside from that missing tape hiss I mentioned earlier. The recording is not that clean and the performance isn’t much cleaner, but the shimmer of good pop/punk rock is clearer than ever. This album is not a leap, a transition, or a shift for the band. It’s what they do, only you can actually hear it without distortion. And what I hear is what I always thought I was hearing: fucking great rock ‘n roll.
Some expected that Times New Viking would blow us away with epic songs over Flood-like production, but that’s not who they are. They’re from Ohio. That’s how we roll[11]. It’s not midwestern mediocre, it’s authentic. It’s good. Why mess with it? TNV will someday do a polished and epic studio album. It will either impress or tank. Until then, I’m confident that this is exactly the sort of album Times New Viking is built to record.
Don’t assume that just because I prefer Dancer Equired to Belong that I think less is better when it comes to sound production. There is a time and place for almost every band to go hi-fi or expand their studio horizons. Times New Viking understand where they are on that continuum. It made more sense for them to just get themselves into a studio, no need to overdo it. Alternately, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart overshot the mark with Flood behind the mixing board. They’ll adjust and either develop their songwriting and playing to match the production or take a step back and just jangle a bit[12]. The key is to match the production with the performance. In this regard, Times New Viking hit the mark with their upgrade from bedroom recordings to a proper studio album.
Notes:
1This is usually tied to a large amount of (monetary) success. You make a ton of money and your or your label decide a name producer is the next logical step.
2Well, sorta. They generally worked with similar people recording and mixing, but production typically fell on the band, until Terror Twilight and Nigel Goodrich’s contributions.
3Bands figure that they captured something on the first record and now they have to recreate that, burn it and start over, or both. Instead, what a band should do is just keep making music. Too many bands try to hard on the second record. Some never recover. (see Interpol)
4Sometimes, the distraction of an overly produced album is fine, especially if the music can actually match the production value. Chavez’s Ride the Fader comes to mind. That record is my favorite headphone album of all-time. The production is so dead-on and big, but the music matches perfectly.
5Deconstructing songs often works the first time around, but after a while, it’s just mental masturbation.
6There’s also a growl when they get loud. The tape his doesn’t bother me as I loved my mixed tape days. There are so many records I only know with tape hiss, that it’s hard to imagine that it won’t always be around.
7OK. To be fair, GBV’s “studio” albums contained some great songs, but the production value suggested they were suddenly trying too hard to be rock stars instead of just being the rock stars they are/were.
8Siltbreeze in TNV’s case and Scat in GBV’s case.
9I really don’t remember why I put this footnote here. Maybe I intended to explain The Pains’ charm as having a British quality, much like the Smiths or something. Of course, they’re from Brooklyn, so they don’t have an authentic British charm…moving on…
10As someone pointed out, this is not the first time Pitchfork has turned its back on a band it touted. This is so effing hipster. (see “On Pissing Contests“)
11I recognize that I’m not in TNV. Hell, I’m not in any band, but lo-fi is something in which Ohioans take pride, at least Ohioans my age…who happened to listen to the same music I did.
12British charm alert!
CoMusic (killer) Filler Wednesdays
Maybe my fillers on Mondays Wednesdays will be my new tradition or something. Either way, the content below is worth your attention. It also won’t hurt for you to check out The CoMO Collective when you’re done.
I wrote the first piece on Dubb Nubb. The second is mostly not my work, but it’s a cool narrative anyway. The third bit is mainly some video, but it too is worth your while. Finally, the last is a review from a show last weekend. I’ve mentioned Believers before, but last Saturday’s show was pretty wicked.
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Once dubbed as the only “twindie-pop band in America,” created a buzz with their turns as buskers for this year’s True/False Films Fest, Dubb Nubb has conjured quite the following in our fair city. Recalling the undead ghosts of Joanna Newsom and Julie Doiron, the twins harmonize with a youthful zeal not often caught on tape. There’s hurt beyond their years, hopefulness despite our times, and a bit of anger to keep it honest.
All this comes through loud and clear on the duo’s latest release New Bones. Sparse, echo-y production feature the grrrls at their finest, fully capturing the craft in their vocals, chords, and lyrics. Listening to New Bones, it’s hard to believe that Dubb Nubb is young enough to enter a battle of high school bands while simultaneously finding it hard to get into some of the clubs in which they play. I suspect they don’t need fake ID’s, just hand over a copy of New Bones to the doorman and they’ll be granted instant access with a Manhattan on the rocks to follow.
I recognize that this blog typically follows Columbia acts or those bands playing CoMO venues. Technically, Dubb Nubb has played this town and are well-connected here. Plus, New Bones is worthy of a listen, download, and one-of-a-kind cloth packaging (while supplies last). So, this all adds up to the band being honorary CoMOians. Welcome them with open arms and hearts, Columbia, and be on the lookout for a Dubb Nubb gig in the near future…after graduation, anyway.
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A couple weeks back, I was contacted by Amanda Rainey in regards to my purchase of the Dubb Nubb’s New Bones. She mentioned her involvement in the 48 Band Competition at Hairhole. Either I asked or Amanda offered to write about her experience, but the important part is that she was willing to share the post below.
Amanda describes herself as “a soon to be business school dropout and a percussionist, quilt artist, sunday school teacher and lady behind little local label Special Passenger Records.” She is currently working on a compilation project called “Feels Like Coming Home” which is an exploration of hometowns and music communities all over the country. That album comes out in July and will feature a Comfort Zone (her 48 Band Competition champion foursome) song about the Hairhole called “Practice Space.” Find out more at Special Passenger Records and Feels Like Coming Home.
Also, Amanda and her collaborators are starting a craft studio/community office space at Hairhole that will be home to “lots of tools and machines and scrap fabric and materials.” There will be open studio times and craft nights starting next month. Email Amanda if you are interested in becoming a member, donating materials, or learning more about Hairhole. Her email: akrainey@gmail.com – Ed.
Sometimes perfect things happen.
Last November after hearing quiet rumors about a 48 band competition at the Hairhole, I asked Sabrina at Maude how to sign up and she said – you gotta find Leo. I didn’t know who Leo was, but I walked down the street to meet friends at Saigon – opening night – and they were standing at a table talking to Leo. So I signed up. They only had one spot left.
48 hours later I walked into the Hairhole and stood among mostly strangers as they decided the bands – and I was placed in Leo’s band, also with Max and Emily – really wonderful strangers who became friends within a few hours of excited drinking, planning and playing music. 48 hours later we performed as Comfort Zone, playing 8 songs and musical interludes that we wrote and meticulously practiced throughout the weekend. We won. I can’t really tell you right now exactly how much that night meant to me or how much it changed everything. Ask me in a few years. But I can tell you that it brought out the best in Columbia’s music community. Through ten new bands performing 100 new minutes of music we caught a glimpse at near perfection. Well, until the cops showed up.
Since 48 hours, Comfort Zone has played three more shows and written six more songs. Max is moving to Chicago soon, so we will probably only play one more show in mid May. However, we were determined to make an album before we split, so we got together a couple of weeks ago and recorded all 11 songs at the Hairhole in one night.
Leo and I arrived at 3pm to clean and set up and we started recording a couple hours later. Throughout the night, friends showed up to hang out, drink beers and help us with our scream and clap tracks. Emily arrived right as we finished our instruments and vocals and did violin layers that will give you goosebumps. At the end of the night we sat back and listened to the album straight through three times – it clocks in at a whopping 15 minutes and 16 seconds. It’s pretty perfect.
I am excited to say that the album will be released in May as a split 12″ with our sister/friendlord band Task Force on the other side. It’s called 12″ Pizza Split and the recordings are getting mastered and plated as I type this. This record is a community art project and we can’t wait to share it with everyone. I’m sure there will be a release show in May and the records will be for sale at Maude. For now, here are some pictures of our recording session – Wednesday March 29th, 2011 at Hairhole, USA. – Amanda Rainey
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Yes, we are like five months behind on this thing, but we also didn’t exist in November. That said, a significant event in the CoMusic scene in recent history was November’s 48 Hours Battle of the Bands competition at the Hairhole, an arts space in the North Village Arts District. Over the course of a weekend, forty local musicians got together, drew names out of a hat, formed four piece bands, wrote and practiced songs, and performed at the Hairhole in a battle du jour. Don’t take my word for it. Check the following videos below and come back tomorrow for a firsthand account from one of the event’s participants, Amanda Rainey (who also provided me with the links to the videos you see below.
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Artist depiction of Believers
The Hairhole doesn’t exist. It’s not in a basement somewhere in the North Village Arts District. They didn’t hold their last show in November. You can’t check-in with FourSquare even if you could find it. There’s no cover at the door. And there wasn’t a show there Saturday night.
I won’t write how nostalgic I felt upon entering the Hairhole, or “Harold” as some might call it. It didn’t remind me of the Neil House, a residence near Ohio State’s campus rented out to a bunch of hard core kids who would hold shows in their living room. I won’t mention a club called Bernie’s with it’s basement locale and claustrophobic-inducing darkness and lack of exit signs. I certainly won’t tell you about the time I made myself bleed watching a band in a basement because I had to pound the beat out on the wall. Nope, all those things happened and the Hairhole did not.
So, everything you’re about to read didn’t actually happen as the Hairhole doesn’t actually exist…
Columbia up-and-comers Quailskin showed great improvement from the last time I saw them a month ago. That first night at East Side was not a good first impression. However, the band pulled together a nice set of actual songs. Gone were the electrotrash pretensions that dominated their set at East Side. Here was the songcraft that will keep folks coming back. Very groove-able, certainly worth another listen. There are some strong pieces in Quailskin. Once they iron out a few wrinkles, I expect them to be a solid part of the scene.
Road-conditioned Senryu found a crowd as happy to see them as they were to see the Hairhole after its forced hiatus. Senryu don’t play ska, but it’s as danceable and rugged as the punk-approved precursor to reggae as anything else I’ve heard. Folks danced and sang along, proving that Senryu’s previous visits to the ‘hole were not in vain. Seriously, their set was a lot of fun, more fun than I’ve seen at a show in this town. Apparently, all the personality in this music community is located in that basement.
Headliner Believers’s pre-show setup gave a pretty big clue of what was to come. Two drum kits were at the front corner of the stage with everything else at the edges, spilling off the stage and into the dancing audience that surrounded them. Percussion is at the center of the Believers sound. Sure, the band features silky vocals, vintage guitars, bass lines that drive, and some well-placed ambient noise, but the beats are what made believers of the audience, whipping the crowd into a frenzy, cracking the ‘hole’s foundation.
Fucking A! This was a great set. The atmosphere was loose. The band was having a good time and the Hairhole crowd was having an even better time. The Believers set Saturday night was what you want in a rock show. So much fun. I really can’t tell you anything else except that you really have to see this band live and in-person.
As if the night couldn’t get any better, Believers switched things around a ripped into a raucous rendition of The Breeders’ “Cannonball.” The Ohioan in me smiled with pride, but the Missourian in me looked forward to more shows at Hairhole and more from Believers.
C’mon, Low
Slow-core[1] is like break-up sex when the divorce is long overdue. It’s all build-up, no climax. Sure, there is a release, but it’s without the euphoric joy typically associated with an orgasm. It’s sad throughout and mostly ends in disappointment.
Interestingly, one can’t spell “slow-core” without “Low.” The genre may have been made up just as a way to describe the band’s slow, methodically dirge into midwestern depression[2], but it’s stuck to the Duluth trio throughout the last two decades[3]. A Low record is slow and methodical. It rarely diverts from the dirges that dominate their discography. Because of this, Low fills a need to have music that isn’t always made for arenas or doesn’t always insight mosh pit violence. Still, as the band has developed over the years, they’ve let their inner Beatle sneak out.
Low is the bizarro Yo La Tengo[4]. Where YLT wears their pop sensibilities on their sleeve, Low buries them, only to unleash it at the least obvious moments. YLT get loud while Low keeps the volume…well…low. In many ways, Yo La Tengo represents New Jersey aggression just as well as Low represents midwestern repression.
In a lot of ways, C’mon is the quintessential Low record[5]. It’s not as angry or ambitious as 2007’s Drums & Guns or as perfectly depressing as the Christmas record they made several years back. It certainly doesn’t reach the depths of their early releases. What it does do is show slow-core as a diverse genre through variations in tempo and aesthetic.
Opener “Try to Sleep” is not really about sleep. In fact, I think the video above explains it pretty well[6]. Still, it’s a song that better describes Low’s overall output as more than just slow-core (whatever that is). It’s lovely in sentiment and aesthetic with its Christmas bells and steady pop melody. I’d go as far as saying it’s even quite beautiful although the lyrics are a bit ominous. You try to sleep and you never wake up. Alan Sparhawk has the kind of pretty male voice normally reserved for rather mundane adult contemporary pop but never sings about death, dying, or suicide. And in the background is the hauntingly present vocals of Mimi Parker. Seriously, this isn’t my favorite track of C’mon, but it could be their mainstream breakthrough in the band’s eighteenth year[7].
“You See Everything” is a surprisingly rich, 70’s era piece of gold. The only thing that makes this track sLow-core is the deliberate tempo that just carries you along. That and the story being told of an escape from a destructive relationship with a controlling partner. Despite the fact that this track is as pretty as the first, there is a subtle anger boiling beneath.
My favorite track of the record comes third and is, in my opinion, the most ominous of the bunch. “Witches” is an alt.country, slow dirge of a Low anthem. Sparhawk comes in low, calling out the one “who was taken down by God.” From there, epic battles between good and evil are eluded to in sinister detail. There’s even room for the faux soul indie rockers to be called out for their lack of authenticity and even soul. The track is frightening in a way only Low can achieve[8].
“Done” is a classically sparse Low duet that crawls to the top of the pews of the Catholic church in which it was recorded. “Especially Me” is what “When We Two Parted” would have sounded like had Greg Dulli been a woman[9]. If I ranked tracks, this might be my second-favorite of the record. Despite declaring that his love is for free, “$20” hits on a theme of undying love that carries on throughout C’mon. And when Low sings about “undying love,” the listener gets the feeling that the “dying” plays a pretty large role.
“Majesty/Magic” is one of those slow risers Low does so well. No band can build intensity the way they do. The only difference between them and most bands is that the build never really completely reaches crescendo. Here, they come pretty close as the track gets pretty loud and raucous just before it fades into a little feedback and a steady bassline[10].
The easy “Nightingale” follows with its almost jazzy guitar and easy drumming. This is a track for a summer evening. Of course, the time of day to which I’m referring is the terror twilight[11], that moment during dawn when it seems the world might end. Then, the sunlight lingers on for a bit and you take a sip of a cold iced tea or whatever we drink in the summertime[12].
“Nothing But Heart” does nothing but repeat the title over and over[13] as Low slowly builds to that slow-core crescendo that never comes[14]. The sense one gets from this song is a repeated phrase a jilted lover repeats over and over to somehow dissuade his love from leaving. It’s amazing what power a repeated phrase can hold. It may not do much to change someone’s mind, but it paints a pretty clear picture of the person doing the repeating and that impression is lasting.
The final track, “Something’s Turning Over,” is a nice back porch jam that feels like the last sing along of the evening. There are even children joining in at the end of the track. The song goes a long way in helping Low break free from the the slow-core label.
This album might not be the best thing you hear this year, but it certainly isn’t the worst. It’s hard to pinpoint anything wrong here. The acoustics of the church in which the band recorded adds an aura to the recording that makes Low’s sound bigger than it actually is. I really expected to not like this record, but it grows on me with every listen.
Notes:
1I want to apologize first thing for using and overusing a tired, lazy made-up genre. Slow-core might be the laziest of all, but it’s apt as it’s been around for so long is most notably attached to this band. So, bare with me and don’t hold it against me for using “slow-core” when more precise language would be more honest.
2When Low arrived on the scene, music was dominated by grunge bands from the northwest. No one thought the midwest could do anything of note. Then, here was this band of Mormons from Duluth, Minnesota doing the exact opposite thing as Pearl Jam and it was good. People feel in the midwest too, god dammit.
3Two decades?!? That’s right. Indie bands from the nineties know how to extend careers better than anyone not named “The Rolling Stones.” Sure, some break up and reunite, but I’m talking about the Sonic Youths, Yo La Tengos, Built to Spills, etc. of the rock world. Indie rockers from this era figured out how to manage their careers, money, and chemical addictions to make a career out of playing for rooms of 200 people and selling a few thousand records a year. Low is just another band in a long list of indie artists who have made this thing work.
4I think there’s a lot to this. Both bands are lead by married couples. Low is Mormon. YLT is generally Jewish. There are similarities in the music they play without either band remotely sounding like the other. I think a cool project would be for one band to record the other’s five or so best songs and then put them both on a split 12″. Sorry. I just geeked out a bit.
5I don’t mean to say that C’mon is the quintessential slow-core record. That’s a very different thing. What I’m trying to say is that the record demonstrates the many assets Low has to offer. It’s as diverse as the band gets and covers a lot of ground in their discography. This is an early hint as to where I’m going with this review.
6Suicide. There, I said it. The song is about suicide or a couple dying together at the very least, but I still think it’s about suicide.
7How amazing is it that a band could have a breakthrough 18 years in? It doesn’t hurt that John Stamos is in the video and Entertainment Weekly debuted it.
8There is something that indie rockers who happen to be Christian (Sufjan Stevens, Danielson, Pedro the Lion, etc.) have figured out that Christian pop “artists” have not. The battle between good and evil within each of us is a dark, dark place we all must go. Being a Christian is not all rainbows and unicorns…er…you know what I mean. These artists accept the evil in all of us and deal with it. They deal with humanity and not just their religion as if humanity never existed.
9One might laugh at this thought, but listen to “My Curse” and tell me that the man knows nothing of women.
10Sometimes, less is more. Building, but never quite getting there leaves us wanting more.
11Yes, “terror twilight” is also the name of the Pavement album. The explanation behind the phrase certainly makes that record seem all the more ominous.
12I probably should have just gone with a beer, but that seemed too obvious. I’m thinking saison, something Belgian and sour/tart, or maybe a simple Bell’s Oberon.
13There is a brief intro, but it’s lost as soon as the repetition happens. I’m still not completely sure what he’s singing in those first couple lines.
14The electric guitar and the acoustics of the church in which Low recorded is chillingly awesome during this track. The echo and the reverb is pretty intense.
Swearing at Motorists – Postcards from a Drinking Town
And that drinking town is Dayton.
Swearing at Motorists rose from the ashes of Dayton, Ohio to produce a sound that was so Ohio, you’d instantly shit buckeyes[1] upon hearing one of their records or seeing the two piece live. I’ve written before about the band. I once told a story about the band while getting all the details wrong. Frontman[2] Dave Doughman set me straight. Sadly, I thought there would never be an opportunity to do so again as the band called it quits a couple of years back. That is, until they released a download-only collection this week of old singles and rarities called Postcards from a Drinking Town.
Before I get to Postcards…, let me tell you a little bit about Swearing at Motorists. The band was nicknamed “The Two Man Who” and that moniker fit, but it was only half the story. On record, the sound was particularly lo-fi, but like the other Who-like Dayton band Guided By Voices, SaM songs were bigger than bedroom recordings. Live, the band was like an uppercut to the jaw. Sparse instrumentation filled space between Doughman’s tales of breakups, boredom, and too much beer. Swearing at Motorists were so engaging that it was hard not to be drawn into Doughman’s never-ending sagas. If you missed Swearing at Motorists, you missed out on something pretty great[3].
That said, I was pleasantly surprised Tuesday afternoon when across my Facebook feed came the following post…
This had been on my radar, but I had forgotten all about it. I immediately followed the link and downloaded this fine collection of 7″ and compilation tracks not found on the band’s seven or so proper releases. These tracks are a fine artifact of life in western Ohio in the mid-nineties. I felt everything was lo-fi back in those days[4]. We made what we had work. We were DIY by necessity. A band like Swearing at Motorists could capture that time. Thrift store t-shirts, souvenir ashtrays, shitty tape recordings…Those were the days.
While I recognize that my bias toward anything SaM releases, I also think there’s something here to which you could relate, dear reader. You’ve been drunk once, right? You’ve been dumped and out of work. You’ve surely seen a bar band or two. Somehow, I think you could relate to Doughman’s everyman persona. And that’s all it takes to love a Swearing at Motorist release. This one, in particular, is more raw and authentic than most. These recordings define lo-fi, but the genius behind the songs is unmistakeable.
If you haven’t done so already, head over to Secretly Canadian and download your copy of Postcards from a Drinking Town. And while you’re at it, go here and download the free two-song EP To Gem City with Love. Of course, that’s only the beginning as you’ll surely want to explore more of Swearing at Motorists’ catalog.
Update: It seems, judging by all the activity from Doughman online, that Swearing at Motorists did not call it quits after all. There are reports of new material out there as well as some hints of a tour. This is good news for sure.
Notes:
1Or horse chestnuts. Whatever you want to call them. Either way, they’re a poisonous nut.
2I use this term lightly as Dave Doughman is really all of Swearing at Motorists. It’s typically him and a guy on drums. I checked the Wikipedia page just to see how many dudes have played drums for Doughman. It looks as if three different guys have played drums. While on Wikipedia, I also found this nice little tidbit…
Doughman mixes trace amounts of his own blood into the ink used in the disc printing process, pioneering the concept of the GrisD. Rumors persist that there was confusion over the term “serious chops” in his contract with Ol’ Scratch, and after some antics over semantics, can now grow sideburns to equal any cartoon samurai at will. Doughman’s documented penchant for sleeping in a topknot may be the source of such speak.
3This is why it’s so great that these tracks were reissued. That and something was said on a Facebook thread about playing in Oregon. Could there be a tour in the works?
4Seriously, our soundtrack was one shitty tape after another. Everything seemed muffled by tape hiss.
Cpt. (my) Captain
I remember back in my college days going to see this particular band who happened to have a 7″ for sale, which I bought. In the Xeroxed liner notes, there was an address where one could send a blank cassette tape and a self-addressed, stamped envelope for more music. So, the music was basically free aside from the shipping and cost of the tapes[1].
I misread the offer and sent two tapes. The guy filled them both anyway with some of the most masterfully produced bedroom recordings I’ve ever heard[2]. I wore those tapes out, literally. To this day, I’ve not found an experience that quite meets those days when I played the hell out of two dubbed cassettes in my beat-up Toyota Corolla.
The new Cpt. Captain release on Yards & Gods comes pretty close, though. When We Were Captains actually cost me less than those mailed cassette tapes. See, Yards & Gods gives their material for merely exchanging your email[3]. So, there’s no excuse for not going directly to their site and downloading everything they have to offer ASAP.
The nostalgia doesn’t end with the free music. The beloved aesthetic of music recorded over shitty tapes in cramped space is here too. And that’s appealing to me in so many ways. I mean, I’m from Ohio. We grow up on football, corn, and lo-fi[4]. That said, don’t confuse a somewhat amateurish aesthetic for amateurish production. Lo-fi is an art, especially when it’s as rewarding as When We Were Captains. Although the format for this release is actually digital, it features a sharpness not found in my tape deck, but the recording process certainly maintains that warm, lo-fi character.
What is also present is an ambition to sound bigger than a bedroom recording can/will allow[5]. Sonically, these songs hover among the lo-fi trees planted so long ago by Lou Barlow, Eric Gaffney, and Jason Lowenstein[6]. The guitars show gumption and the vocals thrive in friendly confines. Had these boys recorded these songs 20 years ago, they would be on a reunion tour right now and not releasing posthumous mp3’s.
This collection spans the group’s short run from 2007-09, also playing under the moniker Nascar Diarrhea. Lazy, hazy ditties about life in a college town are reminiscent of Columbus, Ohio’s Moviola, sans the twang. There’s a lot of mid-tempo material, but the pop nods are all over the place…in a good way. Pleasing grooves are as much a part of a Cpt. Captain song as boozy guitar theatrics. Really, this collection’s ability to attract and maintain your attention through variety is a definite strength.
Sadly, I missed the band’s live shows as I was too busy with my own problems to pay attention to what was happening under my own nose[7], but this collection has allowed me to learn a thing or two about the local scene, helping to fulfill a promise I once made myself. This look into a band’s life allows for my appreciation to be personal. I can get to know these ten tracks closely and either keep them to myself or share with friends. Such is the purpose of the bedroom recording. It’s this personal thing, created in the most intimate of spaces, but its ultimate purpose is to be shared with the world. Whether that sharing be through vinyl, cassette tape, or mp3 doesn’t really matter. What matters is that the music found its way into my collection and I get a chance to hear it.
Notes:
1Both of which were easy for me to obtain. In those days, I kept a healthy supply of blank tapes around and I worked in my college’s mail room.
2In particular was a cover of Pavement’s “Greenlander” and some random Beatles covers as well. He had two 90 minute tapes to fill.
3Who knows what they actually do with those emails? Do they sell them to spammers or Nigerian kings? I honestly don’t know.
4Ever hear of Guided By Voices?
5I’m not talking arena rock like The Who here. By an ambition to sound bigger, I mean that Cpt. Captain have some depth and heft to their sound not typically heard in a lo-fi recording.
6John Davis could be thrown in there as well.
7It’s a lot harder to get into local bands when you move someplace already in your thirties. When I was in Columbus, I had been following the local scene since college. Starting over at 30 was a difficult task, but I’m getting there.
The Neglected Music Blog
On Monday…well…I posted nothing. But on Wednesday, I posted something about beer. Today, I’ll tell you about some music. Again, there’s no time for footnotes. You’ll have to make due with my lack of detail or explanation.
1993 called and they want their buzz band back. That’s all I can think when I listen to Yuck. These kids can play a 90’s indie rock tune like few others. Distortion, self-doubt, feedback, mumbling, quiet-loud-quiet dynamics…It’s all there and it’s quite good. Their label, Fat Possum, typically specializes in retro bands and I suppose 15-20 years ago counts as retro. They sound like Dinosaur Jr, Versus, and Velocity Girl, so, it works.
The following video roped me into the band. Sure, it’s the most erotic dog grooming video you’ll ever see, but the song, “Rubber,” is mesmerizing and induces head bobbing upon the first listen. Beware, it’s NSFW, but it’s worth watching for the editing and cinematography that somehow matches the track perfectly while mashing together images of a dog getting scrubbed down with video of said groomer bathing. Trust me. It works.
Mogwai is another throwback doing a throwback thing in their latest, Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will. The band came up in the mid-90’s, bridging the gap between 80’s hardcore and the shoegazers of the early nineties. With this record, the Scots make that bridge rather obvious, destroying your eardrums and breaking your heart along the way. This is a headphone album of the highest order as layer upon layer crushes you again and again. Friends had been telling me for months to be on the lookout for this record and they weren’t kidding.
Interestingly, the Mogwai video for “Rano Pano” is more narrative than character study unlike the one above, but the aesthetic of the track is strikingly similar. I hadn’t noticed it before, but listening to these tracks back-to-back reveal the overlap. You can hear for yourself. This one is SFW.
And for something completely different…The typically difficult Danielson comes through with maybe his most approachable album yet. It’s almost classic rock-esque it’s so conventional. However, don’t read that assessment as though Best of Gloucester County is boring. It’s anything but and it might not only be Dan’s most approachable album, it could also be his best. Of course, I say this with only one listen, but I think it will stick.
The only video for the Danielson album wasn’t embedable. You’ll have to visit P4kTV to get that kind of action.
The Archers of Loaf Oeuvre, part 3
This is the third of three parts of the Archers of Loaf oeuvre. Some of these tracks have already been reviewed. So, I’ve simply marked those as already seeing BICTBAP treatment. Also, you should know that I was up until almost 1 AM this morning finishing this freaking post. Work’s been crazy, I have had very little sleep, and this one in the series took some listening and reading. So, check it and recognize.
EPs and other collections
Vs the Greatest of All Time (Alias, 1994) – Seriously. This EP has to be one of the greatest EP’s of all time. From the band of many great segues, Vs transitions from the heartbreak of Icky Mettle to the blue-collar anger of Vee Vee. Ironically, “The Greatest of All-Time” does not appear on this release.
“Audiowhore” – A&R guys, producers, agents, whoever leaches off bands, those are the audio whores. This is a running theme throughout Loaf’s material. They came up in a time when it was wondered who would be the next Nirvana. There was a time Archers of Loaf were courted by Madonna’s Maverick Records. This also marked a turn from break-up songs to railing over major labels.
“Lowest Part Is Free!” – This phrase reminds me of the “lowest common denominator,” something A&R and major labels look to hit with each new signing. The band was pretty clearly anti-major label at this point, pretty sick of the whole scene.
“Freezing Point” – Sometimes the best way to move on from a breakup is to literally move on. Doing an east coast tour, getting out of town might be the best way to get out of Dodge, or Chapel Hill. This song could have closed Icky Mettle, but it would have overshadowed even that album’s strongest tracks and would have changed the narrative drastically. It works better on this ‘tweener of an EP.
“Revenge” – Despite being an all-time, great, punk rawk stomp, “Revenge” awkwardly changes subjects from the Icky Mettle-breakup to the working class fight songs of Vee Vee. Still, like all the tracks on this EP, it stands on its own.
“All Hail the Black Market” – The band’s disgust over leaches, hangers-on, liars, jerks, whatever are called out. This song is loaded with disgust like few have ever accomplished. It’s an interesting end to a pretty charged record, particularly right before their “protest” record.
The Speed of Cattle (Alias, 1996) – Few rarities, b-side compilations are this good or this jam-packed with as many great tracks as this one. Honestly, few of these collections are released during a band’s prime like this one. Plus, there are a few new versions of some of their best songs.
“Wrong”*
“South Carolina” – A sort of call to arms with their neighbors to the south, South Carolina was part of one of the band’s earliest singles. It was the B-side to Loaf’s “Wrong” single. I discovered the band through a rehashed version of this song on the My So-Called Life soundtrack, purchased for me as a joke. This song is no joke.
“Web In Front”*
“Bathroom” – Ah, a speed-metal track about really having to go to the bathroom while driving between stops. I know this feeling as I’ve always been the one to wait until I absolutely had to go. It seems the band is just taking a piss, so to speak.
“Tatyana” – This is a narrative about a domestic violence situation, possibly both Russian immigrants (Tatyana). It’s pretty graphic and suggests its anti-abuse and not condoning it. Besides, from what I know and have learned about the band, I feel pretty safe in saying the song is anti-domestic violence.
“What Did You Expect?” – Getting all tied up in a shitty situation? What did you expect? This one’s from a Merge release. Why they could never find their way onto that label will forever escape me.
“Ethel Merman” – Bachman seems to be identifying with Ethel Merman, a huge film star and incredible talent of her time. I suspect her death brought on a death to the golden era of entertainment. Johnny Franklin possibly refers to the actor in Children of the Corn. I suppose both refer to Bachman’s insecurities and inevitable downfall. Still, it’s got a nice hook. Archers of Loaf had the following to say about the whole thing, which actually makes way more sense than what I thought:
This song is about this guy in Tallahassee, Florida who apparently lost control one day and took a sledgehammer or some re-bar to the Florida state radio station. I have no idea what Ethel Merman has to do with anything. Perhaps we had an image of all these Ethel Merman recordings getting smashed and broken apart by some angry listener.
“Funnelhead” – An epic build leads to a Bachman holler. And what is a Funnelhead? Fuck. I don’t know. It’s late. He sees beyond black and white and catches all the shit or something. I’m not even sure what Bachman’s hollering through most of it. It is a beautiful, Afghan Whigs-ish anthem, somehow. What I do know is that it’s a Treepeople cover. That alone is pretty cool.
“Quinn Beast” – According to the liner notes, this one is about a woman who stepped in front of Bachman at a Shoney’s breakfast bar and took the last plate. She eventually figured it out and was not too happy.
“Telepathic Traffic” – Long intro…Sonically, this track would have fit nicely on Vee Vee. Crushing anxiety caused by traffic, all kinds of traffic: noise, light, cars, that line of ducklings following their mother across the street, etc. There’s just too much of it.
“Don’t Believe The Good News” -“There’s a dog on this track.” It’s the end of a long night of partying. The hangover is setting in long before you pass out on the bathroom floor. Things seem generally good, but all the depressants you just shoved down your throat help you see the truth that things actually suck right now.
“Smokin’ Pot In The Hot City” – Instrumental about, well, you know.
“Mutes In The Steeple” – There are a lot of shitty things in this world. We try to make the best of it, but we can’t ignore injustice and wrong. Ironically, this is often how we know that we’re alive.
“Revenge” – ^
“Bacteria” – Seven minutes of hate and disgust. You remember all the times that person was at his/her ugliest. This feeling fuels a move, a song, a feeling you can’t deny. Really, if you ever have to hate anyone for seven minutes (possibly including yourself), listen to this song and flail about. The dynamics of this song are so intense and just incredible. I’m just glad it saw the light of day despite the difficulty the band had finding space for it on a record.
“Freezing Point” – ^
“Powerwalker” – Let’s make fun of powerwalking. You know you’ve done it. This is your theme song.
“Backwash” -*
Vitus Tinnitus (Alias, 1997) – Ah, one of my prized 10″ records. Nothing too new or ground-breaking here, but it was a good find nonetheless. The first six tracks were recorded live and the last two were remixed. No explanations are needed.
“Harnessed In Slums” – **
“Underdogs Of Nipomo” -**
“Greatest Of All Time” -**
“Form and File” -***
“Audiowhore” -^
“Nostalgia” -**
“Vocal Shrapnel (Remix)” -***
“Scenic Pastures (Remix)” -***
Seconds Before the Accident (Alias, 2000) – This was exactly how Archers of Loaf sounded live. One can’t go wrong with this release (or the one mentioned above) when searching out live material. In fact, I’m pretty sure this was basically the same set they played when I saw them on the same tour. What a great, great live band Archers of Loaf were/are. I may have to write more about this set list or the one they recently played in Chapel Hill.
Dead Red Eyes -****
Fabricoh -**
Vocal Shrapnel -***
Web In Front -*
Let The Loser Melt -**
Strangled By The Stereo Wire -***
Fashion Bleeds -****
You And Me -*
Might -*
Revenge -^
South Carolina -^
Lowest Part Is Free -^
Plumb Line -*
Wrong -*
White Trash Heroes -****
Chumming The Oceans -***
Singles
Wrong/South Carolina (Stay Free, 1992) -*^
Web in Front/Bathroom/Tatyana (Alias, 1993) -*^
The Results After the Loafs Revenge: What Did You Expect/Ethel Merman (Merge, 1994) -^
Funnelhead/Quinnbeast split with Treepeople, (Sonic Bubblegum, 1994) -^
Harnessed in Slums/ Telepathic Traffic (Alias, 1995) -**^
Mutes in the Steeple/Smoking Pot in the Hot City (Esther, 1995) -^
Vocal Shrapnel/Density (Alias, 1996) -*** -I don’t think I wrote about this one. It’s available on this 7″ and the vinyl version of All Nations Airports, of which I actually have a picture disc. Anyway, it’s synth-heavy and sounds like an old TV show theme song. It fits nicely thematically-speaking with “Audiowhore” or “Telepathic” and some of the marching-like tracks on Vee Vee, but I’m not sure where it really fits in this oeuvre.
Jive Kata (Alias, 1997) -One of the most unique and oddest of the Loaf oevre, I always forget that this song exists. Hell, I forgot that I own this record. It’s so different from anything they ever did, but I remember appreciating how much it reminded me of Brainiac – another post for another time. There’s a hint as to what their final album would be like, but this track is even light years away from that. The b-side is a live version of “Slow Worm” from the same set that brought us Vitus.
As always, let me know where I’m right and where I missed the mark. I liked doing this. It was easier and quicker than my attempt at a Pavement oeuvre blog (which I may still salvage one of these days). Comments are welcome. Free beer and records are welcomerest.
*Icky Mettle
**Vee Vee
***All the Nations Airports
****White Trash Heroes
^See above.
Beer and Pavement 
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