Luna - Lunapark

 

Luna - Lunapark

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

Starting a new band after an acrimonious breakup isn’t easy. But when your previous act are cult heroes Galaxie 500, it’s even harder. Dean Wareham led the Boston-based trio through three classic albums. They appeared on MTV, and toured Europe extensively in the late 80s and early 90s.

However, not all was well within the group. Wareham felt that drummer Damon Krukowski and bassist Naomi Yang – who were and still are a couple – had formed a voting block within the group. He felt that his ideas were being vetoed and that the friendship had run its course.

Wareham did what he felt was necessary. He backed out of a scheduled tour – knowing that they couldn’t go on without him – and got into contact with his friend Terry Tolkin. Tolkin had just been appointed head of A&R at Elektra Records and was looking for new acts to sign.

With Wareham fresh out of a (semi) successful band, Tolkin saw the opportunity to further develop a young talent. He instructed Wareham to record demos of the songs he’d been working on as a means of demonstrating his potential to the higher-ups.

So, Wareham went into Fun City Studios in spring of 1991 and recorded a demo tape under his own name. Produced by Wharton Tiers and accompanied by Mercury Rev’s Jimmy Chambers on drums, it has a warm tube amp sound.

However, it feels slightly underdeveloped as a recording. Wareham plays all of the instruments barring drums, and while his guitar playing is phenomenal as always, his bass playing is nothing to write home about. A solo career was not in the cards just yet. He needed a band and he needed one quick.

Enter Justin Harwood and Stanley Demeski. Harwood was bassist for legendary Flying Nun band The Chills in the early 90s and he brought a melodic quality to his instrument. His style was as integral to early Luna as Peter Hook was to Joy Division or Les Pattinson was to Echo & The Bunnymen.

Demeski was an equally important member. As drummer for post-punk legends The Feelies, he prided himself on perfect timekeeping. In his memoir Black Postcards, Wareham describes Demeski’s constant practicing in the tour van to keep his stamina. Officially naming themselves Luna, they were finally ready to record a debut album.

Lunapark was released in August 1992. Named after the amusement park chain, the album cover depicted a cosmic pencil sharpener which resembled a spaceship. But would the music be as cosmic as the artwork and the name? Or would Luna launch themselves too far into outer space?

Things get off to a cracking start with the neo-psychedelic “Slide.” Wareham sings of a clean break from the past, and the music matches. Harwood’s bass rumbles along melodically and Wareham plays some of his most expressive guitarwork to date. When the solo hits, he truly reaches for the stars.

But Wareham is not the only guitarist to feature on the track. Grasshopper of Mercury Rev stops by to add some tremolo guitar, contrasting nicely with Wareham’s digital delay. Credit must also be given to producer Fred Maher who mixed the track with just enough natural ambiance to sound live in the room. A thrilling start.

On “Anesthesia,” we find Wareham in more familiar territory. Using the same chords as “Tugboat” by Galaxie 500, we find a further reference to the past in the lyrics. Wareham sings that “the party’s over now,” inverting the refrain of “I don’t wanna stay at your party” from “Tugboat.”

The song describes a relationship on life support, but the origin of the title is somewhat literal. Wareham said in an interview with Jenell Kesler years later that his girlfriend at the time dumped him in the recovery room while she was waking up from surgery.

One song explicitly references the breakup of Galaxie 500. On “Slash Your Tires,” Wareham writes about a dream he had where he slashed Krukowski and Yang’s tires. The video is even more damning. It portrays an obnoxious couple driving a soft top Ford Galaxie 500, while alternating between bickering and on the verge of copulation. A bit of a low blow, but it is funny in a Lynchian way.

“Crazy People” and “Hey Sister” both devolve into surreal jamming towards the end, showing the muscle Luna could pack. They also point to the future, paving the way for the excellent chemistry that Dean Wareham would later establish with Sean Eden.

“Crazy People” ends with a guitar motif reminiscent of how The Velvet Underground slowed down “I’m Waiting For The Man” at their Matrix residency in 1969. “Hey Sister” is a start stop song with melodic bass and light guitars until Wareham slams on the tube screamer pedal. The dynamic is incredibly effective and elevates the song above mid-pack.

On “Goodbye,” Wareham seems to have circled back to the themes of “Slide.” He’s ready to leave town now that the fun has stopped. It’s a slow, dreamy number until the guitar solo hits, and Wareham has added his fretboard magic. A would-be average song is again elevated by his excellent musicianship.

Perhaps “I Want Everything” is the track that points to the future of Wareham’s songwriting. A gentle electric guitar and Wareham’s warm voice introduce the song. The lyrics describe the narrator’s wants and desires, while saying that the woman he loves has “got [him] in a bad situation.”

It’s the complexities of love that would define much of Wareham’s later songs, as well as his personal life. He would leave one marriage, only to start another with Harwood’s replacement bassist Britta Phillips - thus forming a voting block of his own. In many ways, “I Want Everything” feels almost prophetic.

In the end, Lunapark might not have had the acclaim or sales Elektra were hoping for, but it helped launch the career of one of America’s most underrated bands. Dean Wareham explored themes of escape and boredom using his quick wit and signature guitar. And on this front, the album was a smashing success.

Elektra/1992