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as printed in AntiMatters, September 2000 Prewar Yardsale - Lowdown The Novellas - Magnets in Intimate Places Seela - Something Happened Derek Richmond - 3 New Songs |
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Prewar Yardsale Go on, git, you don’t have to think anymore, it’s okay, what’s the big rush, nothing here to see, just go on, you don’t have to worry about anything, we’ve got it all taken care of, you just relax, put on your Nelly and your Kenny G records and go see the latest zany Jim Carrey flick and relax, just take a load off your mind, let us do the thinking for you, no really, I’m making some nice creamy lentil stew and a pot of Ovaltine and you can just chill, here, lay down and close them eyes, really, chill, really, relax, relaaaxxx, there you go. Forget about the new stuff, 99% of it is crap and maybe more than that even, so just chill. El Dorado never existed, there are no frontiers left, we know everything there is to know, and they’ve Disneyfied Times Square, so there’s nothing left to worry about. Try the Harry Potter and then go back to bed - that’ll be a nice long day in and of itself. There you go. That’s right. It’s okay, I won’t leave you vulnerable or anything. Just ... therrre you go... that’s right... sleep... sleeeeeep..... Are they out? Good. Now we can begin. Even for the rest of you hard thinkin’ avant guard types, this might be a hard record to truly dig (well, at least without chemicals). But the payoff is plenty big, as those of you who know this ultra lo-fi (like, no-fi, like, minus-fi) duo shall shurely know. Sounding like they recorded much of this glorious little train wreck of a record in two takes, tops, the rawness they always strive for is there in spades. They do their damnedest to scare off the uninitiated and the unwary (Exhibit A: the 15-minute opening cut "Elevated Platform Stand" - Exhibit B: nearly a full minute of Dina Levy-in-tape-loop singing "weirdweirdweirdweirdweirdweirdweirdweird" like she’s rubberstamping everything in the world with the word), and I can’t see too many Backstreeters & ‘N Styncers turning on to this stuff. But as always, that’s not the point. Mike & Dina are not grinding their squawk just for the people-who-know-what’s-what, but for the people-who-know-that-what’s-what-ain’t-where-it’s-at-anymore. Lowdown will file down your nerve endings until you see the dull pink calmness way deep inside yourself. Using numerous construction metaphors and semi-nonsensical single entendres, they rail against commercialization, commodification and apathy with a focus that doesn’t require any fury. It’s enough for them to be what they are: a wife-&-husband team who make dense, meaningful, often funny music with just a guitar and a pail. The sonic revolution, when it comes, will come to them. Sure, sometimes the multi-tracking effects don’t work (more than once a vocal track will wander away from the actual music and meander off to nothing), and Dina’s vegetable-crisper-&-pail beats shift speed and herky-jerk about like she recorded her tracks on a roller coaster somewhere, but that doesn’t take away from Lowdown’s monotonous realness. It’s post-techno, it’s post-punk, it’s post-machine, it’s post-soul, it’s post-everything. And get this: Dina’s almost-atonal vocal on the title track is as soulful and arresting as any local performance I’ve heard this year. So I should mention somewhere in here that Lowdown is nothing (and I mean nothing) like Mike Rechner’s two previous primo power-pop releases, Wrecked Car and Adjective. Compared to those fully-banded slickly produced pieces of product, Lowdown ain’t just stripped down, it’s picked clean. So if you’re up for an excellent challenge, here’s one for you. If not, well, go back to bed. No one’s gonna laugh at you if you walk away now. The Novellas What took them so long? Since 1996, the Novellas have been threatening, promising, offering an album of their quirky, complete, literary songs to an adoring public. They’ve been suggesting for what seems like forever now that the album is just around the corner. Early live cassettes and preliminary demo tracks from the mid-90s would speak of the imminent release of Magnets in Intimate Places, and both Peter Chance and Laura Ogar, the biggest Novellas, would say they just needed a little more time in the studio to finish up. So what took them so long? From the sounds of the full-length Novellas album, finally released to an appreciative audience, they took all that time to get it right. The Novellas, based on Peter Chance’s short-stories that rhyme and Laura Ogar’s minimal keyboards, theremin and soundbytes – as well as a stylishness that could only be beat by a really big stick –have sent us twelve of their songs from their incredible repertoire. Most of the songs are pretty familiar to us, the loyal Novellas following: "Marietta’s Coming," a ghost story, "Nina," a telekinetic’s story, "Carole Lombard," a starlet’s story, and "There Goes Betty Again," an alien abduction story, "Laura’s Gone to London," a flaky world traveller tale, and many other songs that aren’t about women. They’re all good. All the songs are good, but anyone who’s been to a live show would know that. The question with this release, and really, with any studio recording, is whether it lives up to the live show. With the subtle keyboard stylings behind the full-on Novellas band, and Chance’s visually psychotic performance, they’d be a tough show to improve upon. Does the album do it? Could the album do it? It tries. Magnets in Intimate Places comes close. In some places, it succeeds. Nothing could compare to seeing Chance’s angular movements and his seemingly coked-up face as he jumps into the audience and dances, not among us, but somehow above us. That event, occurring in most every show, is priceless, and non-transferable to sound. But the clear beauty of the songs, the excellent package, the lyric sheet, and the appearance of lesser-heard numbers like "Caterpillar Man" and "Graduation Day" makes up for it. Hell, simply having the opportunity to own the incredible "Self-Immolation Row," and "The Drunken Toreador," each pulling from different Latin musical traditions, are worth the price of admission. But so many of the songs feature more than the usual five-person band, with an additional cast of ten to flesh out parts that you never even thought were missing. Oh… The album is good. This album might be the most seamless transferral of what a local band can do live to the album. There is little loss, and the pleasures heard on this vital album definitely make up for it. The album, unbelievable as it may sound, was absolutely worth the wait. Seela I don’t care. I’m fine with that; I just want to hear the incredible guitar wash and big drum sound flow all through me. Most of the album’s equally atmospheric, though in different ways. Different styles, different powers, different things all going on, all artfully produced by Brian Beattie, head honcho of newimprovedmusic. It’s a good album – it sounds wonderful. I really love the especially poppy "Peace of Mind," which… oh, it’s just great! Someday, I’ll tell you if the lyrics are worth a damn. From what I’ve already appreciated, though, I’m optimistic. Derek Richmond In "High Enough," the hump song in this triptych, Derek features the memorable concept, "Now I’m at the bottom and feeling very high, ‘cuz when I’m at the bottom I know just where I’m at: I’m at the bottom, oh yeah…" He’s one positive mother’s son, isn’t he? Still, incredibly catchy. "In the shade I’ve got it made, baby," Derek says, introducing the chorus of "Bath in the Shade," "All I wanted from you was to leave the light on, so I come home, I could see my way in the door." In this cut, he sounds like some kind of folksy early Lou Reed. I like Lou Reed, too, but it would be a shame for Mr. Richmond to be so mired in influences that he couldn’t find his own voice. Luckily, amid all of these V-bands, Derek Richmond is doing something viable and valuable and all his own. |
August 2000 Index Page |