The Sundays – Blind

 

The Sundays – Blind

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

You’ve led a moderately successful dreampop band for a few years now. You’ve gotten in the charts with a pair of successful singles and released a debut album to high critical praise. But what happens when you try to follow that album with another one? Do you create something more successful, or do you flounder?

So was the story of The Sundays in 1992. The Bristol, UK quartet cast themselves as cult favorites with the singles “Can’t Be Sure” and “Here’s Where The Story Ends.” Their debut album – 1990’s Reading, Writing and Arithmetic – established them as a group with a knack for shimmering melodies, murky basslines, and soaring vocals.

But the band had laid dormant for a few years since the release of the record. And though they had performed a few new tracks on the supporting tour in 1990, rumors began to swirl that the band had split. However, this is not all that uncommon for a young band.

Sophomore albums are a difficult task for many bands and musicians. Artists will often spend several years shaping and developing a debut record until it is perfect. But then when it comes time to record a second one – often after a long tour – inspiration dries up.

The Sundays eventually began work on a second album in 1992. As on the debut, songwriting and production duties were handled by singer Harriet Wheeler and guitarist David Gavurin. Gavurin and Wheeler – who formed the group at Bristol University – had a special connection beyond the music. They were – and still are – a married couple.

Wheeler’s immense talents as a vocalist were immediately recognizable on the band’s debut single “Can’t Be Sure” released in 1989. Her lyrics about desire causing people to lose sight of the bigger picture (“it makes the world go blind”) are given poignance by her delivery, reaching for high notes and hitting every single one.

Gavurin’s shimmering guitar playing – which combined Johnny Marr’s jangle with Robert Smith’s murkiness – was also given a great showing. Being the only guitar player in the group, Gavurin had to function somewhere between a lead and rhythm guitarist. Forming chords and playing lead melodies is no easy task. But Gavurin nailed it every time.

The lyrics also play an interesting role in The Sundays equation. Rather than using lyrics to form a coherent narrative, as Gavurin and Wheeler said on MTV’s 120 Minutes in 1990, the words were “a collection of images” and “impressionistic.”

However, not all of their lyrics stuck to this rule. Songs such as “Hideous Towns” and “I Kicked A Boy” took the impressionistic lyrical approach and wrapped them around a narrative.  “Hideous Towns” features funny one-liners about being bored in one’s hometown (“hideous towns make me throw up”).

On the other hand, “I Kicked A Boy” deals with refusing accountability in a relationship (“think about the time I kicked a boy till he cried […] I could’ve been wrong, but I don’t think I was”). Impressionistic or not, Wheeler and Gavurin’s lyrics display a common theme of avoiding discomfort.

The contrast between these lyrics, Gavurin’s bright major key melodies, and Wheeler’s sincere delivery made The Sundays the greatest masters of sardonic indiepop since The Smiths. As a creative partnership, they frequently drew comparisons to Morrissey and Marr. That’s not to say that the rhythm section wasn’t equally as important, however.

Paul Brindley’s murky, gothic basslines gave The Sundays a Cure-like ambience. Patrick "Patch" Hannan’s tight, metronomic drumming recalled Stanley Demeski’s work with The Feelies (and later Luna). With tight chemistry and a strong songwriting team, things looked to be up for The Sundays.

So, when The Sundays finally released their new album Blind in October 1992, expectations had to be high. But could the band live up to them? Would they continue their upward trajectory? Or would they cave like so many other English bands of yore?

The album opens with “I Feel.” A gentle acoustic guitar and Wheeler’s most soothing vocals to date introduce the track. It is a vast improvement over “Skin & Bones” the previous album’s opener. While there was nothing wrong with that track, it was the least melodically enchanting song on the album.

“I Feel,” however takes the experimental nature of “Skin & Bones” and marries it to a strong rising and falling melody. When Wheeler comes in at the start of the verses, she is singing in almost a whisper. But when the chorus hits, she is singing with full fire.

She also uses much more vibrato than she had on any previous track. The track seems to be made up of a series of edits, with brief pauses between sections. In this sense, it brings to mind what Fleetwood Mac did on their standout song “The Chain,” which was recorded in a similar manner.

Gavurin mostly sticks to acoustic guitar on the track. However, it does sound as though he overdubbed some electric guitar onto the choruses when the rhythm section enters. A very fine start, while remaining consistent with the band’s previous work.

The second track “Goodbye” is almost a sequel to “I Won” from the debut, both musically and lyrically – with a few more years of wisdom. Rather than expressing regret over her part in an argument, Wheeler acknowledges the end of a relationship. She goes as far as to “vow that it’s goodbye” making the relationship sound more like an addiction than a romance.

The rhythm section of Brindley and Hannan lock into a tight groove, allowing Gavurin space for one of his best murky and repetitive guitar leads. Towards the end of the track, the riff changes and Wheeler sings in a higher key, quite literally ending the song on a high note.

Elsewhere, “More” uses rain as a metaphor for sex while also addressing a relationship itself. Wheeler asks, “tell me boys are you out there?” whilst saying she’s “wet and wet through” despite wanting more. It’s a fascinating topic – a relationship that has become toxic, like an addiction – but the protagonist of the song can’t leave.

Musically, the track starts out in a murky, dreamy haze. Brindley’s reverberated bass and Hannan’s syncopated drumming come in with Wheeler’s angelic voice. But when the chorus hits, Gavurin plays a more aggressive, post-punky riff high on the neck of his guitar, which contrasts nicely with the sweetness in Wheeler’s voice.

Meanwhile, “God Made Me” is a completely different animal. The track begins with the washed out sounds of Gavurin’s guitar and Brindley’s melodic bassline. The duo become locked in perfect harmony as Hannan’s drums come in. It is over a minute until Wheeler’s voice enters, and the listener is in heaven.

Wheeler sings about “looking for an insult” and “waiting […] with a bottle in my hand.” It’s clear that she’s hiding behind a mask, but it isn’t clear yet what that mask is. It does however become clearer towards the end of the song.

In the last chorus, Wheeler sings the title, before singing “that’s what they told me before/who knows what they’re saying today?” She also sings “imagine my eyes when I first saw we can do what we want.”

This could be a doubt over the existence of God but combing these lines with earlier lyrics tell a different tale. It would appear that Wheeler is criticizing those who hide behind the mask of organized religion to justify their flaws.

Taking the song out of a religious context, it would appear to be a metaphor for hypocrisy at large. Lyrics which call work a “labor of love” compare a relationship to punching a clock. Marrying such a barbed sentiment to one of the groups most angelic melodies feels like a career peak.

Wheeler’s vocal is also one of her most skilled to date. Her use of vibrato on the lyrics “but how was I supposed to know that?” leading into the chorus give the song an added emotional resonance. This contrasts nicely with Wheeler’s reticent delivery in the verses.  

The US version of the album closes with the band’s cover of “Wild Horses” by The Rolling Stones. Originally a mournful country ballad, The Sundays succeed in turning it into a mournful dreampop ballad. While the original is a stone-cold classic, The Sundays still manage to make it sound like their own.

Gavurin plays acoustic guitar during the verses, and overdubs some heavily delayed lead guitar onto the choruses. Wheeler sings powerful high notes on lines where Jagger originally used the bottom of his register. Her vocal stylings put emphasis on the lyrics “make me feel bitter/Or treat you unkind” and give the chorus an angelic coo.

While the album wasn’t the critical success that The Sundays would have hoped for – it got somewhat mixed reviews upon release – time has been kind to Blind. At the time, critics negatively compared it to the debut album, stating it wasn’t enough of a progression from the former.

Although it may be true that very little is different this time around, it doesn’t detract from the listening experience. In fact, it might be an even stronger release, given Wheeler’s expanded vocal technique and the maturation in the songwriting. The Sundays may not have set the world on fire at the time, but in retrospect Blind feels like a career peak.

DGC/1992

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spiritualized – Lazer Guided Melodies

 

Spiritualized – Lazer Guided Melodies

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

The term “space rock” has an interesting connotation in the world of rock music. Mention the genre around the boomer generation and you’re likely to hear tales of listening to Pink Floyd or The Grateful Dead as a youth. But mention it around a Gen X-er and chances are you’ll hear about two groups – Spacemen 3 and Loop.

Spacemen 3 were formed in Rugby, UK in 1982, and were centered around the songwriting partnership of Jason Pierce and Peter Kember (better known as Sonic Boom.) They blended the sound of 60s psychedelic rock like The Red Krayola with the garage rock sound of MC5. But alas all good things must come to an end.

After tense recording sessions of their final album – 1990’s Recurring – Spacemen 3 disbanded in acrimony. Kember could no longer work with Pierce and left to form Spectrum. Pierce took the remaining members and formed Spiritualized.

It didn’t take long for Spiritualized to release music. Because of a clause in the contract Spacemen 3 signed with Dedicated, Spiritualized were still under contract with them as well – as well as manager Gerald Palmer.

As a result, the first Spiritualized single was released on the imprint in June of 1990 just months after Spacemen 3 broke up. A cover of The Troggs “Anyway That You Want Me,” it showed Pierce was still in touch with his roots as a garage rock shaman.

The b-side however, was where things got interesting. An early mix of “Step Into The Breeze” – a Pierce original which would later show up on the debut album – displayed a new sound in Pierce. It was altogether slower and dreamier than anything he’d written to that point. It was also more romantic.

The source of the romance was soon clear. Pierce’s significant other – Kate Radley – soon joined on keyboards and backing vocals. Her presence made the music sound even dreamier, and the next singles released showed a renewed interest in gospel music, something Pierce displayed since 1987’s “Walking With Jesus” single.

Anticipation was high for the debut album, but the question remained – could Spiritualized measure up to the hype of the early singles? And could they step out of the long shadow of Spacemen 3? Answers to these questions would finally come in spring of 1992 when Lazer Guided Melodies was released.

The album gets off to a soothing start with “You Know It’s True.” A gentle guitar line by Pierce and Mark Refoy opens the track sounding much like a lullaby. Pierce’s voice enters at almost a whisper, and Radley joins in with her own hushed tones.

The subtle refrain of “I love you” at the end makes it clear that Pierce and Radley are talking to each other through song. The track also shows Pierce willing to take a risk by lulling his audience into the album, rather than bursting out of the gate with something up-tempo.

Things only get better from here. “I Want You” chugs along like prime Velvet Underground. Pierce and Radley harmonize again, as the song builds to a transcendent chorus.

“Smiles” channels the more progressive rock-oriented material John Lennon was producing towards the end of The Beatles run. The track builds from a subtle drone of guitars and Pierce’s voice to a psychedelic swirl of organ and hammer dulcimer.

This loud/soft dynamic reappears later on “Angel Sigh.” Pierce compares Radley’s gaze to that of an angel over a warm three note bassline and gospel organs. When the track builds to a crescendo of horns, it is both exhilarating and life-affirming.

But perhaps the best track is the remixed “Step Into The Breeze.” The song starts with a lush viola and a simple guitar arpeggio. Pierce’s voice enters – drenched in reverb – describing the content feelings in his relationship.

Although lacking a chorus, the music builds to a crescendo where one would normally be. This crescendo is much more satisfying on the album than on the original mix. The guitars and drums have been smoothed over to blend in and out of the soundscape seamlessly.

Lyrically the song is the most interesting declaration of love on the album. Pierce uses a river and a cool breeze as a metaphor for having everything he needs in the relationship. He gives the listener plenty to work with but is vague enough to keep us wondering.

Ironically, Radley is MIA on the track. It was recorded before she joined later on in 1990. However, like a ghost, her presence is felt without being heard. Speaking of ghostly, the album ends as gently as it started – with Radley counting up to 200 over a harmonious guitar and bassline.

Oftentimes, musicians will only get one shot at stardom. When that doesn’t work out, they are typically forced to toil away in the minor league club circuit. But there are exceptions. With Lazer Guided Melodies, Jason Pierce proved there was a path forward after Spacemen 3. Spiritualized went onto greener pastures, but Pierce was never again as freewheeling as he was here.

Dedicated/1992