Mojave 3 – Out of Tune

 

Mojave 3 – Out of Tune

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

You’ve led a moderately successful cult band from Reading. You’ve had your sound compared to everything from Cocteau Twins to the Twin Peaks soundtrack. And then it all goes up in flames due to label woes.

So was the story of Slowdive in 1995. The seminal shoegazing band released what would eventually be hailed as a genre classic, Souvlaki in 1993. But by 1994, the group were having problems with their American label, SBK. In a rather controversial move, the label refused to fund the North American leg of the Souvlaki tour.

To make matters worse, while SBK weren’t giving Slowdive the financial backing they needed, they also refused to drop the group from their label roster. Slowdive were stuck in a contract which did not benefit them. They were forced to fund the tour out of pocket.

After the end of the tour, guitarist and songwriter Neil Halstead immersed himself in the burgeoning ambient/techno music scene. He started hanging out with Mark Van Hoen of Locust, as well as members of Seefeel in dingy electronic nightclubs. Halstead wanted to capture the sounds he heard.

He holed up in his London apartment and began demoing material which utilized loops, samples, and a lot of negative space. Many of these ideas would find their way onto Slowdive’s final album for 22 years, 1995’s Pygmalion.

The group also simultaneously recorded their first soundtrack album for the 1994 indie film I Am The Elephant, You Are The Mouse. They were also finally free of the pesky SBK contract. Things seemed to be looking up for the band, but they were only going to get worse.

Although Slowdive were finally free of SBK, they had not signed an American distribution deal for their new album. This left the album to be stranded in the UK, only seeing a very limited release by Creation Records in February 1995.

Because Creation were not receiving licensing money from an American label off Slowdive’s record, this made the band redundant in the label’s eyes. Consequently, Slowdive were dropped from their roster.

While it may have seemed like the end of the band, Slowdive opted to keep going – albeit in a slightly different configuration. Almost immediately after being dropped, bassist Nick Chaplin and guitarist Christian Savill left the group. This dwindled the lineup to Halstead, Vocalist Rachel Goswell, and drummer Ian McCutcheon.

At the same time, Halstead was looking to take his music in a new direction. While Pygmalion featured a few tracks with acoustic guitars and slow tempos, Halstead was inspired to move further down that path. The trio – still called Slowdive at the time – recorded a six-song demo tape in this new style.

Among the songs was the Lynchian “Love Songs on the Radio” featuring a slide guitar and Goswell’s most stunning vocal to date, “Sarah” which featured prominent use of piano and Halstead and Goswell’s ethereal harmonies, as well as “Candle Song 3” where Halstead displayed a newfound love for Leonard Cohen and Nick Drake.

Cassettes emblazed with the title “Slowdive Demo” were promptly shipped out to record labels in hopes of enticing their A&R departments. One of these tapes found their way into the hands of Ivo Watts-Russell. The 4AD founder had a reputation for cultivating a family atmosphere at his artist-centric label.

However, like Slowdive, his fortunes had turned sour recently. After letting go of his two pet projects Cocteau Twins and Red House Painters, he was looking for a new flagship band within the dreampop/slowcore genres. While Watts-Russell had received the demo tape, the stigma of being dropped by Creation made Slowdive a dying band in his eyes.

When he finally listened, however, he was blown away. He wanted to release the demo tape as an album, just as Red House Painters did with their debut Down Colorful Hill. But Goswell insisted that it wasn’t done, and an additional three songs were recorded with Simon Rowe on guitar.

The band also renamed themselves Mojave 3 around this time. A friend of theirs said the sound of the music evoked the vastness of the desert and that they should use “Mojave” as a band name. Because another band used the name Mojave, a “3” was added to their name.

The debut album, Ask Me Tomorrow, was released in October 1995. A mere eight months after releasing the final Slowdive album, Mojave 3 were able to realize their full artistic potential. The feat is even more impressive when taking the previous 18 months of struggle and hardship into account.

The genesis of Mojave 3’s second album – 1998’s Out of Tune – was much simpler. They came up with another batch of songs and recorded them with a growing confidence and fire. However, Neil Halstead also added Dylan to his pantheon of influences. This is immediately apparent on opener “Who Do You Love.”

Two strummed acoustic guitars and Halstead’s most nasal vocal to date introduce the track in modest fashion. When the chorus hits, however – with farfisa organ and trumpets – it is something new and exciting. Halstead manages to sound both cheerier and more energized than anything on the first album. But things only get better from here.

Like “Mercy” from the first album, “Give What You Take” calls back to the Slowdive sound of Souvlaki with dreamy harmonies and a churning, hypnotic repeating guitar figure. Better still, a pedal steel guitar is featured prominently, blending in Americana influences with their British folk.

On “Caught Beneath Your Heel,” Halstead arrives at a sound combining The American Analog Set with Spiritualized. A droning vox organ introduces the track along with gently strummed acoustic guitars. Halstead sings a tale of love gone wrong, as Goswell harmonizes and the track builds to a gospel crescendo.

Guest singer Lisa Millett takes a gorgeous scat solo in the middle of the track. Her vocals work gloriously against the backdrop of the music, and it feels like a moment that could’ve been on Spiritualized’s Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space album.

But perhaps “All Your Tears” is the best song of all. A minimalist affair blending “Vapour Trail”-esque acoustic guitars with gentle leads and electric piano, it is truly gorgeous. Vocally, Halstead is in full Dylan territory once again. When he sings “something changed, my friend” you can feel the presence of Robert Zimmerman in the air. If any song could evoke the feeling of a rainy, early fall day, it would be this one.

The 90s were a tremendous time of self-discovery and artistic exploration for Neil Halstead. He discovered a knack for ambient electronic, minimalist post-rock, and Nick Drake styled folk. But with Mojave 3, Halstead reached the pinnacle of artistic expression. While Ask Me Tomorrow has the better story, Out of Tune is an equally worthy successor.

4AD/1998

 

 

Bernard Butler – People Move On

 

Bernard Butler – People Move On

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

You were the last to join a seminal band of your generation. You inspired legions of guitarists and are often ranked second best of your era in Britain – second to Johnny Marr. But then you leave that band after falling out with the lead singer. Where do you go from here?

So is the story of Bernard Butler. The Suede guitarist may have joined last but was second in command to frontman Brett Anderson. However, tension arose in mid-1994 during the recording of their second album – Butler wanted to produce the sessions himself – which resulted in the guitarists exile.

Butler rebounded quickly, forming the excellent McAlmont & Butler, and penning the Anderson-inspired single “Yes.” However, tensions arose with singer David McAlmont, and the band fell apart by the end of 1995.

It seemed like luck had run out on Butler once and for all. Surely, you can walk away from one band and have a career. But two within one year of each other? Fans had to be wondering – could Butler recover?

In 1998, Butler reappeared on the scene. Having signed a deal with Alan McGee’s Creation Records, things appeared to be looking up for the guitarist again. Only this time, he would be going it alone.

People Move On – Butler’s solo debut – featured him playing most of the instruments – barring drums, played by the great Makoto Sakamoto. But how would it sound? Could he recapture the glory days of a few years prior?

“Woman I Know” starts the album in melodious fashion. A gentle lead guitar and Sakamoto’s slow drums introduce the track. Butler’s voice enters and the track is a tale of romance. No one else compares to the woman he’s with. Butler’s wife – whom he’s been married to since 1994 – seems to be the inspiration here.

As the track progresses, a gospel choir brings the chorus to another level. The track is reminiscent of the territory Spiritualized would stake out on Songs In A&E – particularly “Soul On Fire.” Romantic, but just vague enough that we don’t know if the inspiration is also chemically induced.

“You Just Know” has a rhythm and lead guitar style evocative of Neil Young & Crazy Horse. Creation boss Alan McGee actually called Butler “the Neil Young of the ‘90s” in a press release for the album. But it’s the title track where things really pick up.

“People Move On” is new territory for Butler. The track builds from a gentle acoustic strum and vibraphone accompaniment into a beautiful tale of romance. Butler uses the story of Rapunzel as a metaphor for the love in his life.

What sets it apart from previous songs he’d written or co-written is that Butler knows to use restraint. Rather than building it up to epic proportions like Suede’s (still excellent) “Stay Together,” Butler keeps it as an acoustic track with minimal bluesy lead guitars.

Elsewhere, we have the (unrelated) “Stay.” The track is an extended ballad which builds into a psychedelic swirl of lead guitars. It sounds a lot like Oasis’ “Champagne Supernova” if it were done by Spiritualized – it features the gospel choir again.

But “Not Alone” is perhaps the strongest anthem on the album. Ironically sounding a lot like the post-Butler Suede track “Trash,” “Not Alone” is a summer anthem for the ages. The track starts out with subtle gospel vocals, before exploding into a wall of strings and bright, distorted electric guitars.

Lyrically, the track deals with striking out on one’s own, throwing caution to the wind, and feeling good about it. There’s little doubt that Butler related to this sentiment, and his passion is felt through every decibel.

Sometimes an artist will have great success outside of their main band. Other times they will struggle to break out of the enormous shadow cast by their main project. Bernard Butler may always be known as the Suede guitarist – and one half of McAlmont & Butler – but People Move On shows him moving in an exciting new direction with a spacey ambiance.

Creation/1998

 

Tommy Keene – Isolation Party

 

Tommy Keene – Isolation Party

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

Tommy Keene knew his way around a song. The late singer-songwriter’s approach was not entirely unique. But he knew what worked and what didn’t. What made a sharp melody, and what dragged an album down.

A contemporary of Mathew Sweet, he had been crafting power pop gems since the mid-80s. He had a college rock hit in 1986 with “Places That Are Gone.” And then, one thanksgiving, he was gone. Dead of a heart attack in his sleep. He was 59. 

In the middle of his story came Isolation Party. The 1998 album carried the jangly sound of earlier records forward, but with a harder edge to the guitars. Opener “Long Time Missing” perfectly exemplifies this transition. 

The guitars have a staccato crunch to them, with a slight gain. The tempo lurches forward and the song seems to jump out of the speakers before pulling back. When the drums crash in and Keene’s nasal tenor belts the opening line, you can hear the influence that touring with Paul Westerberg had on him.

The Replacements’ singer/guitarist tapped Keene to play lead guitar with him on tour in 1996. The shows were roaring, and showed a consummate professionalism not previously seen in Westerberg. But more importantly, they showed that Keene could rock on guitar.

“Long Time Missing” is a success not just because it faithfully captures a live sound on record, but because it also shows an artist breaking free from past expectations. He’s still a master craftsman, but he’s also a capital “R” Rocker.

Elsewhere, we hear Keene in familiar territory with the sweet, soft pop of “Never Really Been Gone.” Jeff Tweedy of Wilco provides beautiful harmony vocals, and the way their voices blend gives the track an ethereal quality.

Tweedy also shows up on “The World Outside,” which manages to combine the sound of The Raspberries with R.E.M. But it’s Tweedy’s partner in Wilco, the late Jay Bennett who brings the album to an even higher level of quality.

Like Keene, Bennett was a master craftsman with an untimely end. He could play nearly any instrument and transformed Wilco from roots rockers in pop perfectionists on Summerteeth. His contributions are all over Isolation Party, but they really stand out on “Happy When You’re Sad.”

A resigned melancholy hangs over the track both in the lyrics and Keene’s delivery. The lyrics describe a rainy autumn day using it as a metaphor for the dying days of a relationship. But Bennett’s bass and rhythm guitar parts paint in the extra details. His gentle stop-start strumming locking in with the jazz drum beat and Keene’s reverberated lead guitar.

The defeated, sepia toned sound is somewhat reminiscent of what The Jesus and Mary Chain did on Stoned and Dethroned. But Keene gives it his own spin, singing in a higher register than the Reid brothers.

Tommy Keene released his biggest hit in 1986 with “Places That Are Gone,” but there is much more to his story. Despite having made several great songs and records before, Tommy Keene shone the brightest on Isolation Party.

Matador/1998