Luna – Romantica

 

Luna – Romantica

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

You’ve led two successful indie groups. You’ve created “slowcore” and “dreampop” albums before either term was invented. And you’ve successfully avoided all rockstar cliches. Until now.

So was the story of Dean Wareham in 2002. His group Luna had recorded five albums of blissed out Velvet Underground-inspired dreampop. And he had just introduced a new member to the fold.

Bassist Britta Phillips had previous musical experience with the shoegazing group The Belltower. But she also had TV experience as the singing voice of Jem in the animated television series Jem and The Holograms. Her musical ability, singing voice, and star power was captivating to just about everyone. And it is safe to say that she captured Wareham’s attention.

The two quickly realized there was a mutual attraction and began a romantic relationship. There was just one problem – Wareham was married. All went well for several months. But according to Wareham’s memoir, the shit hit the fan during the recording of Luna’s next album.

A maid at the Days Inn in Fredonia, NY spilled the beans when Wareham’s then-wife called the hotel asking for her husband. The maid answered the phone and said “Oh, they just left.” Wareham, apparently not wanting to lie any further fessed up to the affair.

While this spelled an end to his marriage, it also put a damper on the whole era of material for Wareham. He has rarely expressed any interest in playing songs from the album live and rated it close to the bottom when Vice asked him to rank Luna’s albums from worst to best.

Which is a shame, because the music contained on the disk which eventually became Romantica is uniformly excellent. Released on April 23^rd, 2002 – the same day as Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – Luna had a lot to live up to. And by large, they did.

Opener “Lovedust” balances a cocaine metaphor with romantic intentions. Wareham sings of “A million/A billion/A trillion stars” against a jaunty chord progression and lead guitar part. The song perfectly contrasts Wareham’s classic rock-oriented playing against fellow guitarist Sean Eden’s spacy ambiance.

“Weird and Woozy” shows drummer Lee Wall reprising his part from “Tracy, I Love You” off of 1997’s Pup Tent. Wareham sings about the end of a relationship – and knowing that it is the end – and it’s hard not to read between the lines here. Still, it’s a great – albeit rarely played – track.

“Swedish Fish” and “Mermaid Eyes” recall the dreamy sounds of Lee Hazelwood’s 1960’s work. “Swedish Fish” is played as a waltz, describing a soothing train ride in a narcotic drawl. “Mermaid Eyes,” however is something special in the Luna canon. A duet between Phillips and Wareham, it predicts the work the duo would do as Dean and Britta in future years.

Here, the style is almost doo wop in execution. The band plays in a rhythm reminiscent of the mid-‘50s to early-‘60s. And Wareham and Phillips are enchanting in duet. Elsewhere, Sean Eden has two excellent co-writes with Wareham – “Black Champagne” and “Rememories.”

“Black Champagne” is a dreamy song with swirling strings and excellent “glide guitarwork” by Eden. Dave Fridmann of Mercury Rev contributed heavily to the track, adding strings, and mixing the entire album.

“Rememories,” meanwhile has excellent imagery in the lyrics. Wareham sings of Venetian blinds “slicing up the sun” and keeps a sense of mystery with its incomplete sentence chorus – “it’s been a long, long, long…”

The music is firmly rooted in the alt country genre, with spaced-out slide guitar by Eden, and jangly arpeggios by Wareham. It’s a pity that the duo remain two of the most underrated lead guitarists in the scope of independent music.

Everything wraps up with the epic title track. “Romantica” the song starts out in slow motion. A drumbeat, piano, and organ fade in at a crawl. Wareham sings of the start of a relationship with a slight sadness in his voice. Even when the chorus of “I’m in the mood for you” hits, it’s hard not to hear the melancholy.

It’s almost as if he is mourning his previous relationship, while expressing hope for his current one. As the song reaches it’s climax, Wareham lets loose a glorious finger styled guitar solo reminiscent of Mark Knopfler. It’s an album highlight that in retrospect, feels like a career peak.

I would be remiss not to mention the album artwork. It features a painting of a cigarette lighter with a palm tree printed on the side. It’s the kind of lighter that can be bought at any convenience store or gas station, yet it speaks volumes about where Wareham’s head was (possibly) at.

The palm tree, tropical image suggests peace and great happiness. Yet seeing it crudely rendered on the side of a cigarette lighter suggests a disturbance in Wareham’s peace. Given the recent circumstances surrounding his divorce, it isn’t entirely surprising.

Most modern bands are rarely able to say anything new on their fifth album. Yet with Romantica, Luna showed the world the depth of their talent. Wareham may shy away from this period of his history – and rightly so – but the music he created speaks for itself.

Jetset/2002

 

 

 

Mike Johnson – What Would You Do

 

Mike Johnson – What Would You Do

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

You’ve toured and recorded with Dinosaur Jr. You’ve made records with Mark Lanegan and developed a knack for writing and arranging. Heck, J. Mascis even lets you play lead guitar on several songs. But what happens when you want to strike out on your own?

That was the big question surrounding Mike Johnson in the mid-1990s. After fronting a grungy Pacific Northwest punk band called Snakepit in the latter half of the 80s, he was asked by J. Mascis to replace Lou Barlow on bass in Dinosaur Jr. – no easy task, considering Barlow’s heavy/melodic, inimitable style.

However, Johnson quickly developed his own style. Primarily a guitarist before joining Dinosaur, Johnson began playing figures on the bass which resembled lead guitar parts, albeit in a much lower frequency. Better still, the notoriously controlling Mascis let Johnson play a handful of guitar solos on the 1990s Dinosaur Jr. albums.

Johnson’s skills as a musician led to him being tapped by Mark Lanegan to help the singer kickstart a solo career. The Screaming Trees frontman was looking for a stylistic change from the art damaged grunge of his former group and believed Johnson to be the man to do it.

Together, the two artists developed a style which combined the crooning blues of Leadbelly with the poetry of Leonard Cohen and the glacial pace of the burgeoning “slowcore” sound. The albums they made together led to even more acclaim for Johnson, but he still had one creative itch left to be scratched. His own solo career.

Johnson’s next move took him even furth down the path of Leonard Cohen and slowcore. His first three solo albums gained a warm reception and a cult following in the indie rock world, but none of the attention the Lanegan albums received – or even like-minded contemporaries such as Red House Painters, Low, and American Music Club.

On his fourth album, What Would You Do, Johnson sought to tip the scales in his favor. Opener “Arise” has a warm, sultry sound reminiscent of Luna at their most alt. country. In the chorus, the song reaches its climax. Trumpets flutter and Johnson’s smoky voice fills the air, repeating the title.

“Names” is a chilly mope of a tune that doesn’t get dragged under its depression, thanks to Johnson’s genuine delivery. Musically, it’s a three-chord, minor key waltz, with Johnson repeating a lyrical phrase along with a descending third. Its late-night vibe calls to mind American Music Club at their most mellow.

On “Things…” Johnson opens with some fiery guitar work, jamming in an unconventional rhythm against the drums and bass, before settling into a two-chord minor key groove. Johnson and second guitarist Bret Netson – of Built to Spill fame – share a vocal which can only be described as sounding like it was beamed up from the ninth circle of Hell.

The record’s only cover is a version of “Deliver Me from My Enemies,” a song originally recorded by Yabby You and written by Vivian Jackson. While it was originally a somewhat hopeful reggae tune, Johnson completely reworks it into his own style, adding a stinging sadness and a slow, ringing resonance from his telecaster.

Speaking of gorgeous guitar tones, the instrumental track “The Introduction” – which actually comes towards the end of the album – features Johnson playing ambient, clean notes on his guitar, which resemble Slowdive’s work during the Pygmalion era of the band.

Some albums save the best for last. What Would You Do is one of those albums, closing with the haunting, yet strangely uplifting “Over.” And it does so with a twist. While “Things…” evoked the sound of the ninth circle of Hell, Johnson references Purgatory here.

Rather than penning his own lyrics, he reads several verses from Canto XVII of Dante’s Purgatorio. This brave act would collapse in a pile of hubris if it weren’t for the gorgeous instrumental backing. Johnson plays a heavily flanged and delayed part on his telecaster, a figure which finishes with a stinging arpeggio.

It all ends with the part when Dante’s guide informs him that he must discover the true nature of love for himself – the only logical conclusion to the album. Much like a cliffhanger ending to a film, Johnson leaves the end of the album open to interpretation.

While Mike Johnson is best known for his collaborations with other artists, it is his own solo work where we get closest to understanding the true nature of the man himself. On What Would You Do, he reached the pinnacle of artistic achievement while trapsing through the dark woods of his mind.

Up Records/2002

 

 

 

The Reputation – The Reputation

 

The Reputation – The Reputation

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

 

Being in a band can be tough. Playing at dingy bars, operating on very little sleep, being malnourished on long van rides. It’s no life for the faint of heart. But try doing it while attending law school. 

So was the case for Elizabeth Elmore while fronting The Reputation. While she was used to the riggers of the road – she previously fronted Champaign, IL stalwarts Sarge – she was not used to juggling that with studying for the bar. 

All of which informed her writing on The Reputation. The self-deprecating tone and power pop guitar riffs of her previous work are out in full force. But now they are flanked by the experiences of someone who has actually lived.

Take the eight-minute, mellotron flanked epic “For The Win.” Beyond the dense sonic landscape she creates, Elmore tells a story of a relationship which has become purely physical. The glacial pace only adds to the emotional resonance. 

Another set of high points are the back-to-back introspective tracks “This Town” and “Alaskan.” “This Town” describes an almost universal feeling of not fitting in and being shunned by peers.

It gets to the point that the singer blames herself for the rejection, and it’s easy to empathize with her plight. Musically the track resembles Pavement’s “Starlings of the Slipstream” with majestic electric guitars. It also features an organ solo played by Wilco’s Jay Bennett.

“Alaskan” is a mid-tempo rock song with an R&B flare to the vocals. This is where the self-deprecation comes in. Elmore seems to know that she doesn’t have the vocal chops to truly pull it off, but she sings with just enough conviction for it to avoid sounding amateurish.

Speaking of amateurs, “The Stars of Amateur Hour” is perhaps the greatest highlight. A chiming pop-punk riff introduces a sordid tale of drunk nights and hungover mornings. When Elmore quips “welcome to the grown-up world,” it is the ultimate diss on adult children.

But the album closer might be the most surprising cut. After two minutes of silence following “For The Win,” the listener is treated to a cover of “Almost Blue” by Elvis Costello. It’s just Elmore on vocals and Jay Bennett on piano, but the haunting delivery and gender reversal is oddly effective.

Elizabeth Elmore is no longer active in the music scene. She went on to be a war crimes prosecutor in The Hague, which certainly has a wider impact than leading an indie band.

Although Elmore moved onto bigger and better things outside of music, her legacy as a heart-on-the-sleeve songsmith still shines.

Initial Records/2002