Rose City Band – Summerlong

 

Rose City Band – Summerlong

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

You’ve led a critically acclaimed psychedelic rock band for 13 years. You’ve played at All Tomorrow’s Parties festival and supported Sonic Youth on tour. But what happens when you want to conceal your identity?

So was the story of Ripley Johnson in 2019. The guitarist and songwriter had led the acclaimed band Wooden Shjips for over a decade. But Johnson was looking for something different. And he wanted to do it in secret.

Johnson wanted to make music in the style of American Beauty-era Grateful Dead. But he wanted to keep his identity disguised. So, he devised the plan of forming Rose City Band but not mentioning his name anywhere in the credits for their debut album.

That album, 2019’s eponymous Rose City Band showed Johnson’s knack for hazy slowcore, but also hinted that he had much more to offer. So, when the follow-up Summerlong arrived in June of 2020, fans were clamoring for what Johnson could offer next.

The album opens with the gentle country rock of “Only Lonely.” Over a skipping guitar lick and a country beat, Johnson describes a lazy Sunday in Portland, OR. He’s longing for romantic attention but seems content with lounging around. It works wonderfully as the soundtrack to those early summer days where the days are still getting longer, and the sun shines till 8 o’clock at night.

“Empty Bottles” is even more laidback. Johnson plays a descending slide guitar lick, as John Jeffrey slowly drums along. The sound and effect recall what Dean Wareham and co. were doing on Lunapark, Luna’s first album from 1992. But the outro jam also recalls what Wilco were doing circa 2007 with Sky Blue Sky.

Clearly not satisfied with simply aping The Dead, Johnson instead weaves all of his influences into a musical tapestry. This is record collector music for indie kids who came of age in the 1990s and 2000s. But it also has great potential to appeal to their elders.

The albums’ centerpieces are the extended jams of “Wee Hours >” which – as bootleg collecting Deadheads will know by the “>” – transitions into epic closer “Wildflowers.” The two tracks add up to 11 minutes, roughly a quarter of the album.

A steady drumbeat, and tight ascending rhythm guitars allow for plenty of fretboard fireworks from Johnson, as the tracks speed past the five-minute-mark. It’s easy to imagine these tracks being played to a blissed-out crowd on the summer festival circuit.

But perhaps “Floating Out” is the melodic highlight of the album. Dreamy droning guitars surround Johnson’s vocals, evoking the feeling of both Luna and Spiritualized. The slow drums add to the ambiance and give the composition a great sense of space – as well as feeling like it is floating in space.

However – at the risk of invalidating my entire review – in depth analysis is almost counterintuitive to music like this. It is better to zone out and let the jams run from. Thus, I can only say that Ripley Johnson’s forays into Grateful Dead-influenced rock were a rousing success, and a highlight of his own legendary career.

Thrill Jockey/2020

 

 

 

Dereck Higgins – Dereck 3

 

Dereck Higgins – Dereck 3

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

You’ve been active in the Omaha music scene since the 70s. You’ve explored everything from ambient to punk to reggae. And you have a large body of work worth discovering. But what happens when you want to self-release some of that on vinyl?

So was the story of Dereck Higgins in 2012. He had released the solo album Dereck 3 as a seven track, limited edition CD-r in 2007, but was looking to expand it into a full-length LP on vinyl. Higgins – who is primarily a bass player in his band work – played all the instruments on the recording, barring one track.

Higgins was able to crowd fund the pressing of Dereck 3 as an LP very quickly, with the campaign reaching its goal in two hours. Higgins credited this to his strong YouTube fanbase, as well as the vinyl community at large. But how does the record stack up? Let’s get into it.

“Morning I Rise” features a guitar part which recalls the playing of Neil Halstead from Slowdive, mixed with Higgins’ warm bass. Similarly, “So Glad To See You” resembles the solo ambient work of Robin Guthrie. Higgins has spoken extensively about his love of shoegazing music, and its influence is very clear here.

“December,” “Night Music,” and “Winter Blue” form a sort of Pink Floyd trilogy, with Higgins’ ambient guitar work being the main source of melody. All three compositions are spacious, with the gaps in between the notes creating a sense of dynamics. When Higgins lets his fingers fly, the effect is transcendental.

And Higgins returns to his bass playing roots on the track “Bass Lament.” Using a fretless Ibanez bass, Higgins crafts a deeply moving piece which channels psychic pain into something gorgeous. While I’m not well versed in solo bass pieces, this one stopped me in my tracks.

But the album isn’t all doom and gloom. The track “Happy” features dueling lead guitars – both one octave apart – and a scorching rhythm guitar track. The song is incredibly uplifting, yet fits in perfectly with the sparser, more space rock-oriented material.

Dereck Higgins may not be known to the world outside of niche music communities, but his work commands respect. Dereck 3 is more than just another great record in an ever-expanding body of work. It reaches something close to transcendence.

Coco Art Recordings/2012

 

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