Self-Imposed Slavery: Riverside’s ‘Shrine of New Generation Slaves’

On By Erik HeterIn 2013, progressive rock music, Uncategorized13 Comments

Image    Riverside’s recorded output began with three albums that are collectively known as the Reality Dream Trilogy (‘Out of Myself’, ‘Second Life Syndrome’, and ‘Rapid Eye Movement’).  These are all very good albums, although I wouldn’t call any of them great albums.  However, in 2009, Riverside took a big leap forward with ‘Anno Domini High Definition’ (ADHD).  The music took a noticeably different direction from its three predecessors, and reflected well on the album’s subject matter, i.e. the frenetic pace of modern life and accompanying dissatisfaction that sometimes goes with it.  After a two-and-a-half year wait (with the EP ‘Memories in My Head’ thrown in during the meantime), Riverside has returned with ‘Shrine of New Generation Slaves’ (SONGS).  And once again, they have taken a big – no, huge – leap forward.  Quite simply, this is Riverside’s best album to date.

Conceptually, the album relates to dissatisfaction with modern life, so much so that many people feel that they are slaves to something beyond their control.  Thematically, there are some common threads with various lyrics on SONGS predecessor, ADHD (in particular, the lyrics on the excellent ‘Driven to Destruction’).  Nevertheless, the lyrical (and thus conceptual) content extends beyond that to into areas such as stagnant relationships, the depravity of celebrity culture, surrender to nihilism, and ultimately, redemption.

Musically, the album is just fantastic.  In contrast to its predecessor, it does not feature a barrage of notes and thus gives the listener a little more space to contemplate the lyrics. That being said, I wouldn’t call it dimensionally sparse either, as there is plenty going on.  The music is probably the result of a different approach.  Bass player Mariusz Duda stated in a recent interview:

I had some problems before as I was a little bit tired of the formula that we had in the past and I didn’t want to do another album with complicated structures. I just wanted to finally focus more on the arrangements and the composition. To focus on some details, like a way for playing drums, a way of playing guitar. I really, really wanted to focus simply on songs. Simply songs, ambitious songs should be the foundation of this album. The metal parts I skip and replace them with hard rock elements.

Confident in the chops honed on previous albums, the band has taken more of a big picture approach to the music on this album – an approach that seems to have served them very well.

‘New Generation Slave’ opens up the album, featuring a heavy guitar riff interleaved with verses of Duda’s protagonist lamenting his life and dissatisfaction with it:

Ain’t nothing more to say

Your Honor

Don’t look at me like that

The truth is

I am a free man

But I can’t enjoy my life

The tempo then picks up, and keyboardist Michał Łapaj announces his presence in this piece by getting in touch with his inner Jon Lord (RIP), and repeats this a number of times throughout the album.  The opening track segues into ‘The Depth of Self Delusion’, which is less heavy and a bit slower, but no less good.  The use of acoustic guitar and atmospheric keyboards make their first appearance.  I don’t recall this much use of acoustic guitar on any previous Riverside release, and it’s great to hear them expand their sonic palette in this manner.  The song includes some interesting bass work in the latter half and closes with light acoustic guitar.  The band then blasts into ‘Celebrity Touch’ as Duda offers his critique of our Kardashian-ized culture and the pathological need some have for attention and approval from others:

I can’t afford to be silent

I can’t afford to lose my stand

What matters is to be in view

I am seen therefore I am

I can satisfy my hunger

I can satisfy my thirst

What about the feeling of importance

Now I’ve got my chance

…

In the center of attention

TV
Glossy magazines

My private life is public

I sell everything

Days are getting shorter

They’ll forget about me soon

So I jump on the bandwagon

With no taboos

The song includes a nice juxtaposition between a heavy riff that accompanies the above lyrics, to a less heavy, more reflective section:

But what if we start to talk

Not only say out loud

What if we sift the babble

From what really counts

What if we disappear

Go deeply underground

What if we hide away

From being stupefied

‘We Got Used to Us’ follows, and is yet another slower track that has somewhat of a Porcupine Tree-like vibe as our protagonist ponders a stagnant and dissatisfying relationship.  This one is pretty emotional.

Next up is the punchy ‘Feel Like Falling’, a song with crossover appeal having upbeat music that belies the lyrics, as our protagonist begins to realize the path he has chosen in life has led him astray and left him wanting to simply give up:

Had allowed that life to drift

For I’ve chosen a different trail

When light fades

I feel like falling into blank space

‘Deprived (Irretrievably Lost Imagination)’ is up next with music that is slower, mellower, and decidedly more melancholy than the previous track.  The music includes a nice, Floyd-ian interlude at about the halfway mark leading into a jazz-infused instrumental section in the latter half featuring some excellent sax playing.   Our protagonists dissatisfaction seems to be so intense at this point that they have gone beyond the mere desire to give up as in ‘Feel Like Falling’ – now we have a full fledged surrender to despair:

Curled up

Deprived
Curled up

Deprived
I shut away

Please don’t call my name

‘Escalator Shrine’ begins as another slower track, but picks up the pace after a few minutes.  Once again we hear the Hammond organ with the Leslie cabinet, some excellent bass playing, and some heavy (but not necessarily metal) guitar.  Like the previous track, it includes another Floyd-ian interlude at about the halfway mark.  Lyrically, ‘Escalator Shrine’ approaches the new generation slavery from more of an intellectual level than an emotional one, as our protagonist channels Albert Camus and the Myth of Sisyphus:

Dragging our feet

Tired and deceived

Slowly moving on

Bracing shaky legs

Against all those wasted years

We roll the boulders of sins

Up a hill of new days

‘Coda’ is the final track on the album, and maybe the most emotionally heavy, even though it is instrumentally the lightest – a single acoustic guitar.  Perhaps our protagonist has read some Epictetus, or maybe the serenity prayer, but it appears he has realized that his happiness and satisfaction with life is ultimately in his control and his own responsibility:

Night outside grows white

I lie faceup in my shell

Open my eyes

Don’t feel like falling into blank space

Indeed, for all of its darkness and all of its sadness, SONGS ends on an upbeat note, as our protagonist casts off his self-imposed chains:

I won’t collapse

I’m set to rise

It’s interesting to note that, although ‘Coda’ is the final track on the album, it is also numbered as Track 1, as is ‘New Generation Slave’.  Indeed, our protagonist has hit the reset button and is starting over.

I simply cannot say enough good about this album.  As thrilled as I was with ADHD, my response to SONGS is in a completely different realm.  Musically, the album has a perfect blend of heavy and light, of complex and simple, emotional and intellectual.  Nothing is overdone, nothing is incomplete.  The lyrics have a strong message, and as dark as the album’s atmosphere, it’s ultimately a message of hope for those that get it.  And if this album is an indication of what we can expect in the future from Riverside, then it’s another strong piece of anecdotal evidence that we are in the midst of a progressive rock golden age heretofore unseen.

Oh, and in case you didn’t get it, I strongly recommend this album 🙂

The Stranglers, A Retrospective

On By iangreatorexIn 2013, Uncategorized9 Comments

About 5 or 6 years ago my son’s guitar teacher, a young dreadlocked guy into hard rock and grunge, asked me who was my favourite band. I surprised myself when I immediately answered “The Stranglers”. “Oh” he replied, “The band who sung Golden Brown?”  “Yes” said I “but haven’t you heard the early stuff from the punk-era like Hanging Around, Grip, Peaches?”……

I’ve asked a few from the younger generation about the Stranglers and many either haven’t heard of them or they are remembered for some of their 80’s pop hits like the aforementioned ‘Golden Brown’, ‘Strange Little Girl’, ‘Always The Sun’ etc. Indeed they did write some superb ‘pop’ songs but I remember them for their uncompromising attitude; their clear desire to ‘progress’ their musical style and their unique sound, driven along by thumping bass lines and swirling keyboards.

In 1977 and 1978 the Stranglers produced certainly one (Rattus Norvegicus), if not two (Black and White) of the great albums to come out of the Punk Era. Whilst not considered punk, these albums stand alongside the great Punk albums of the period: The Clash and London Calling by The Clash; NMTB by the Sex Pistols; Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables by The Dead Kennedys; Machine Gun Etiquette by The Damned; The Ramones by The Ramones; Love Bites by the Buzzcocks and Pink Flag by Wire, to name a few. But you won’t find Rattus or B&W featuring highly, if at all, on any Top list of Punk albums.

Rattus Norvegicus

No More Heroes

Black and White

Many at the time said they had jumped on the punk bandwagon. Certainly they had been playing as an unsuccessful pub-rock band for a couple of years as the Guildford Stranglers. But by opening for the 1976 tour of the Ramones and Patti Smith they got noticed and signed a deal with United Artists.

From a punk perspective they were considered outsiders, both in terms of their age, being older than their peers (Jet Black was in his late thirties when Rattus was released) and musically different. Their sound was unusually melodic (helped by the fact they were ‘relatively’ musically accomplished); their lyrics could be clearly heard (!) and even solos were allowed (!).

The band certainly took advantage of the musical zeitgeist but never truly embraced the punk culture. They did adopt the aggressive and abrasive punk attitude on stage; they delivered their lyrics with snarling brute force. Their dealings with the musical press were notorious leading to JJ Burnel punching a music journalist. Some of their lyrical output reflected the punk-spirit. They exhibited a total disregard for political correctness at times, highlighted by bringing strippers on stage at the Battersea festival in the summer of 1978 (strangely the main support act was a man by the name of Peter Gabriel !).

Led by two charismatic front men, Hugh Cornwell on lead guitar and Jean-Jacques Burnel on bass, they delivered an incredibly varied output over the years. From the simply arranged punk anthems of ‘No More Heroes’, ‘5 Minutes’ and ‘Something Better Change’; through the reggae-inspired ‘Peaches’; to the dark more complex and experimental ‘Black’ side of the Black and White album; and they even wrote the 4 part and 8 minute long ‘Prog-structured’ classic, ‘Down in the Sewer’.  They broke away from the punk scene totally in 1979, their early success giving them the confidence to release their avant-garde fourth album, The Raven. They followed this with the unusual but ultimately disappointing concept album, The Gospel According to the Men In Black (which lost me and many others as fans for a while). The Stranglers were definitely not derivative and did not want to be pigeon-holed. Their musical and lyrical diversity on a track by track basis is rare and a testament to their originality and innovative skills.

Their signature sound was driven along by the ‘rough’ and a chest-filling bass lines of Jean-Jacques Burnel, usually followed by the swirling Hammond organ and mini-moog keyboards of Dave Greenfield. Unusually the guitar melodies were shared between lead and bass and there are an astonishing number of catchy riffs in their early output. Dave Geenfield’s psychedelic keyboards are hugely inspired by Ray Manzerek of the Doors, particularly on their brilliant cover of Bacharach and David’s ‘Walk on By’. Jet Black’s drums ties everything together nicely with competent drumming. Martin Rushent’s production on the early albums superb.

Their musical style and structure was initially quite basic  but over time became more intricate with the use of complex time signatures; effects to slow and speed up sound and, from Black and White onwards, the more frequent use of synthesizers to create weird vocals and soundscapes.

The band’s lyrical themes were hugely diverse. Songs about boring lives, disenchantment, alienation, and the breakdown of political and social order were laced with biting political and social comment and par for the course at the time. But they were also inspired by the writings of Nostradamus, Japanese and Viking culture and even by a Victor Hugo novel.

Their lyrics quite often pushed the boundaries of what was acceptable. ‘Peaches’ is the only song I know that has the word ‘clitoris’ in it (changed to ‘bikini’ for the UK’s Top of the Pops). Clearly their lyrics were at times sexist and whilst unacceptable they were tame compared to today’s rap music and I believe ignore the playful irony and satire inherent in much of the band’s output. Most controversial was the misogynistic ‘Bring on the Nubiles’, about the obsession of older men for younger girls. The song comprises ‘in your face’ vulgarity and alludes to incest. Were they serious or just exploiting the times? What we do know is the band was deliberately antagonistic and courted controversy to increase their profile and this was indirectly supported by their record company who saw no reason to censor their lyrics or curtail their behaviour (it sold records for God’s sake!!!).

Here are some of my favourite lyrics:

From the punk anthem ‘No More Heroes’, the witty:

Whatever happened to Leon Trotsky?
He got an ice pick
That made his ears burn

From ‘Grip’ the truly memorable:

Stranger from another planet welcome to our hole
Just strap on your guitar and we’ll play some rock ‘n roll

Visceral social commentary from ‘Hanging Around’:

I’m moving in the Coleherne
With the leather all around me
And the sweat is getting steamy
But their eyes are on the ground
They’re just hanging around

(The Coleherne was an infamous gay leather bar in Earls Court, London in the 70s and 80s frequented by many famous clientele).

Here’s a typically aggressive live, albeit shortened, version…

Acerbic criticism of the educational system in ‘School Mam’:

http://www.lyricsbox.com/stranglers-lyrics-school-mam-1vprfx3.html

In the free-form, abrasive and controversial ‘Ugly’, only the Stranglers could juxtapose a reference to Ozymandias, a poem by Shelley about folly in the pursuit of power, with the shallowness of mankind’s attitude towards aesthetics:

I Could Have
Read A Poem Called
Ozymandias
To Her Instead
I Lived For The Moment
It Was A Futile
Gesture Anyway
I Was Here
And She Was Here
And Being Broad
Of Minds And Hips
We Did The Only Thing Possible

I Guess I Shouldn’t Have Strangled Her To Death But
I Had To Go To Work And She Had Laced My Coffee With Acid

Normally I Wouldn’t Have Minded
But I’m Allergic To Sulphuric Acid
Besides She Had Acne
And If You’ve Got Acne, Well,
I Apologise For Disliking It Intensely,
But It’s Understandable That Ugly People Have Got Complexes
I Mean It Seems To Me
That Ugly People Don’t Have A Chance

It’s Only The Children Of The Fucking Wealthy Who Tend To Be Good Looking

An Ugly Fart
Attracts A Good-Looking
Chick If He’s Got Money
An Ugly Fart
Attracts A Good-Looking
Chick If He’s Got Money
An Ugly Fart
Attracts A Good-Looking
Chick If He’s Got Money

It’s Different For Jews Somehow.

I’d Like To See
A Passionate Film Between
The Two Ugliest
People In The World.
When I Say Ugly
I Don’t Mean Rough Looking
I Mean Hideous.

Don’t Tell Me That
Aesthetics Are
Subjective You
Just Know The Truth
When You See It
Whatever It Is

Powerful stuff indeed.

In 1990 Hugh Cornwell left the band and it appeared to be the end of an era. Over the subsequent years they continued to release albums with little mainstream success but were (and still are) supported by a fanatically loyal fan base. However, with the addition of Baz Warne, whose energy and snarling aggression making him a worthy replacement to Hugh Cornwell, they have become a superb live act. Their latest album ‘Giants’ released in 2012 is a huge return to form, echoing their halcyon period of the late 70s. It seems ironic that I saw them headline a predominantly ‘Prog’ festival, Weyfest, in 2010 but it’s a clear indication of their popularity amongst a wide cross-section of music lovers.

The Stranglers are arguably the greatest and certainly the most enduring band to emerge from the punk era. I look forward to another brutal encounter with them later this year in Guildford, their spiritual home and fortunately only a few miles away from chez moi.

Final words though must go to Hugh, JJ, Dave and Jet from the epic ‘Down in the Sewer’

I tell you what I’m gonna do
Gonna make love to a water rat or two
and breed a family
they’ll be called the survivors
You know why ?

No
Coz they’re gonna survive

Nearly 40 years on and they are surviving remarkably well 🙂

Psychoanorexia by t (Thomas Thielen)

On By bradbirzerIn Uncategorized4 Comments

by Frank Urbaniak, Progarchist

Symphonic Modern Progressive Rock (we will skip the word Neo) with rich, dense instrumentation and melancholy lyrics/melodies for fans of Marillion-Brave Era, PG, Radiohead, Porcupine Tree (SD, LBS Era), Bowie, Floyd, VDGG.  

PsychoanorexiaRecommendation:  Highly Recommended

Art is a bitch, and so is literature – and music. They always present us worlds well out of reach – pipedream kingdoms of epic journeys, heroism, boundless yearning and lots of all the things we are, well, let’s face it, not. Art is, insofar, simply destructive for your everyday middle class John Doe. It makes him long for things he neither really wants or needs: danger, uncertainty, lovesickness, bleeding hearts, je ne sais quoi. – t on anti-matter poetry.

2013 is looking to be another great year for progressive music with Steve Wilson, Lifesigns, BBT, Riverside and Cosmograf all released by mid-March.  The sheer volume of quality releases makes it easy to overlook an artist who cannot easily be googled ( t ), has long gaps between releases and does little or no touring.  t /Thomas is classically educated in piano and voice, but switched to guitar early in childhood when he realized that ‘most girls in his class fancied guitar players’. Psychoanorexia is his fourth solo CD since leaving German art rock band Scythe, and he plays all instruments, sings, arranges, produces and mixes his work. His two most recent CDs, Voices and Anti-Matter Poetry, each about 3 years in the making, received critical acclaim in some quarters but failed to achieve the overall recognition they deserved. This is likely a result of two factors:

  • t music is not always an easy listen, but as Kinesis said, ‘t takes the listener into an alternate musical reality, and after the album concludes, you may need to pause and take several deep breaths before returning to waking reality’.  The music is sometimes dark and moody, offset by beautiful, melancholy melodies often delivered through heavily processed vocals and dense instrumentation so it is not a easy casual listen.
  • t is a deep thinker and a poet.  He focuses on the alienation we experience as society and technology advance, the impact on our relationships and our ability to stay linked and loved. Lost loves, disconnected lovers, feeling alone and alienated while being with someone, the multiple influences that affect our everyday lives and therefore our relationships is not always happy stuff.

From t:

“This is the time when ringtone applicability equals musical quality. This is the place where the greed of being a pop star has replaced the sublime experience of creativity. This is the era in which democracy means mass phenomena, not choices. When we have become too lazy even for subterfuges. And too busy to feel the loss.”

Psychoanorexia consists of only 4 songs, three epics and one shorter track. His lyrics –which fill several pages of the CD insert, are complex and interesting but not always easy to understand due to the amount of vocal processing. The opening track, the three-part The Aftermath of Silence, is a beautiful seventeen minute love story with very accessible melodies. Aftermath begins with a long and haunting instrumental passage leading to the refrain

‘ So this is the day, the sky too blue.’

Slow and sad, the opening moves through an interesting set of musical progressions reminiscent of Marillion, concluding with:

‘We came back, but we never recovered

We always reminded ourselves of each other’.

Kryptonite Monologues, the most complex and challenging track, continues the theme of love lost by abandoning the mood of the previous track with a frantic opening section named ‘Breakfast Cataclysm’. This is the most symphonic track, with hints of Yes, Van Der Graaf Generator and Crimson.  After a soaring instrumental section with some pounding drums and heavy guitar lead t moves to a bombastic operatic interlude he describes as part comedy (Monty Python), hinting at the absurdity of it all, collapsing into a lovely classical section named ‘Borrowed Time ‘with soaring strings.  Driving percussion builds to the haunting climax ‘The End of the World’ with echoes again of Marillion’s Brave.

The third track, The Irrelevant Lovesong could be a lost track from somewhere between Peter Gabriel’s Scratch and Us periods, and is a short, moving poem describing the growing gulf between two people:

‘All through the nights

Though cold and blind

I hold you here

But no, I love you not

No, I love you not’.

The CD concludes with Psychoanorexia in two movements, ‘Bedhalf Exiles ‘and ‘The Stand’.  The music again alternates between attack and reflect, the gates are locked and defenses up in an effort to save all that is worth saving.

‘Save our souls

And guard all the doors we closed

And promise to stake our hearts

Lest one of our oaths could last’.

The song ends with a barrage of frantic drums and a vocal chant reminiscent of mid-70’s Genesis in tone.   The journey is tiring but rewarding, challenging but gratifying.  I thought that his previous were highly personal stories, but here t seems to be more of an observer, reporting on the irony of our (or his) existence, the decay that comes with progress.

Psychoanorexia is modern symphonic rock at its finest, rich, inventive and always interesting. I love the dense instrumentation, vocal effects and overall presentation.  t’s biography mentions his obsession with sound and he is obviously proficient at all instruments, but it is his keyboard prowess and engineering skills are what enables him to deliver on his vision. t also uses electronic drums more effectively than most, and in many cases you are hard pressed to recognize them as electronic except the cymbals, which at times sound too separated (crash cymbals should not be left or right speaker only) and a minor quibble, sound a bit ‘spitty’.  Psychoanorexia  is an obvious labor of love by a unique musical poet and this outstanding effort by t is one I highly recommend.

Challenging Greed and Media Whoredom: 3rdegree’s “The Long Division”

On By bradbirzerIn Uncategorized3 Comments

“The Long Division” By 3rdegree (2012)

Sometime right after Christmas, I had the great joy of receiving a package addressed to Progarchy from New Jersey.  A nice note accompanied the very intriguingly-packaged CD, “The Long Division” by 3rdegree.  long division cover

Lots of great CDs have come in for review, but I’m always surprised when they’re not accompanied by some explanation.  Or, it would be better to write: I love getting notes from the artists themselves.  Even the short “Hey, let us know what you think” offers a personal connection.  Maybe it’s just my Kansas upbringing regarding such things as “thank you notes.”  But, I digress.

Suffice it to write, the note from Robert of 3rdegree said: love what you’re doing; please check us out when you have a moment.

Absolutely!

And, for the last month, I’ve been thoroughly enjoying my time with 3rdegree’s 2012 release, “The Long Division.”  Imagine Steely Dan, Echolyn, and Tears for Fears in the studio together.  Maybe throw in just a touch of the more complex aspects of some 70s harder rock.  Prog it all up and throw some New Jersey attitude in.  Finally, mix in some really bitter populist–true and righteous (in the best sense)–lyrics, and you start to approach the wonder that is 3rdegree.

And, I should mention, this is really, really American.  How can I state this?  I’m frankly not entirely sure.  But, the whole cd certainly feels very American.

As with much of prog, there’s a real perfectionism here, too.  The keyboards (especially the piano), the bass, the drums, and the guitars sound very sharp.  The mix is simply excellent, and the group feels tight.  My guess is they like each other very much.  I don’t think it would be possible to play like this without a real sense of perfectionism and sympathy with and respect for one another.

My favorite part, though, are the vocals.  The closest comparison I could make–in terms of vocals–is to the best of Spock’s Beard, Gentile Giant, and early Echolyn.  I can’t imagine the vocal arrangements here ever getting boring or rote in any way.  Outstanding.  Truly outstanding.

This leads me, naturally, to the lyrics.  When Carl, Chris, and I started Progarchy, we decided to make music the focus and avoid–wherever possible–the subject of religion and politics.  The three of us already do that fervently elsewhere on the web.  Progarchy is meant to be a music site, open to all.

That said, I don’t think it would be possible to review this cd without at least a mention of the politics presented here.  Never dumbed down (thank you, 3rdegree), the lyrics reflect a real anger at the state of American political culture.  Whether that anger stems from a Left or a Right–a liberal/Democratic or conservative/Republican–position, I just can’t tell, despite my numerous readings of the lyrics.  My guess is that these guys are simply too smart to be either left or right.  Clearly, they’re not fans of corporate welfare.  But, they don’t seem thrilled with eco-freaks either.  Here’s their own statement on their website:

“You’re Fooling Yourselves!”, wails 3RDegree lead singer/keyboardist George Dobbs on the band’s lead-off single from the new CD THE LONG DIVISION-their first since 2008.  This song-as well as a few others on the first half of the album-flesh out the band’s 2012 political treatise: that America’s political parties (and probably those in other countries) have long divided it’s populous on the basis of color, salary, sex, age and much else, have played on their fears, and have used their accumulated powers to build up largesse to keep their supporters in the fold.  Ok, it’s not always that heavy, but the album was penned in the shadow of the 2008 economic collapse that was happening right as 3RDegree were releasing their first album in 12 years:  NARROW-CASTER.  While that third album was a combination of fresh songs and resurrected ideas from the period just before the band’s original breakup in 1997, THE LONG DIVISION is in the shared vintage of Tea Parties, Occupy Movements, shovel-ready jobs and banks and car companies “too big to fail”.

Well, from whatever position, I like it.

I can’t give enough praise to this CD.  It’s the kind of cd that makes you increasingly enthusiastic with each new track.  One track is utterly brilliant, and just when you think there’s no way the band can top track one, track two starts, and you’re blown away.  Then, track three, four, five. . . .  It just keeps being increasingly mind boggling.

Whatever the state of civil liberties, the economy, or government in the U.S., 3rdegree dramatically affirms my belief that American prog is alive and well.

To learn more about 3rdegree, check out their outstanding website (the perfect model of a website for any band–a fan’s dream; lots and lots of information):  http://3rdegreeonline.com/3RDegree/Home.html.  I also want to note that one of our favorite American proggers, Mark Ptak of The Advent, plays on “The Long Division” as well.  Additionally, the band supports good beer.

Steamfolk – The Derring Do of Dodson and Fogg

On By Craig BreadenIn Uncategorized4 Comments

ImageThere was a fairly determinate point in the British folk rock movement of the late 1960s/early 1970s where a second string, following on the heels of Fairport Convention and Steeleye Span, made a bid for eternity.  Trees, Mellow Candle, Mr. Fox, and the chamber folk musicians, like Nick Drake or John Martyn or Roy Harper or Michael Chapman, bent their axes in a more idyllic, often trippily electric, singer-songwriter direction, creating everything from full-out jazz improv to fairly quaint hippy platitudes.  The rarity of some of the LPs these artists produced is legend — it took the internet to demystify them, and reconnect listeners to a wellspring of achieving, often remarkable, sometimes dated, music.

As a touchstone for inspiration these records are nearly without peer, independent and uncompromising.  But having a Vashti Bunyan album in your collection and making music that you make your own is another thing.  Chris Wade, who leads the project Dodson and Fogg — as well as being a rock writer in his own right — has done that with Derring Do, the group’s second album.  Derring Do elaborates on the first, self-titled Dodson and Fogg record, while taking a leap forward lyrically and musically — the limitations of a home studio have become strengths, the writing delivering songs that fit together.  Wade has achieved this by understanding the tools he’s working with, and by having a deep respect for his inspirations while retaining his artist’s eye and ear for what does justice to his songs.  So he’s able to coax graceful backing from two of British folk rock’s great singers — Celia Humphris (Trees), and Alison O’Donnell (Mellow Candle) — while maintaining a focus and direction of his own device.

There are traces on Derring Do that listeners might find familiar, the floating-down-a-river sound of Nick Drake or James Yorkston, the pop folk of Iron and Wine, the simple melodic invention of Syd Barrett, and the more pastoral forays of T. Rex and the Kinks.  The lyrics are simple and unfussy, straightforward, working with the melodies rather than overly concerned with poetics or narrative.  Unexpected touches appear, such as really tasteful, brief guitar solos that work — there’s an ebb and flow that occasionally needs breaking, and Wade has the feel and chops to put some crunch in the right places.  There are trumpets, spare percussion, flutes, and Wade’s voice, dwelling at times in the lower registers, can range from a kind of glam-punk bite to the breathy approach that’s come to be so associated with Nick Drake.  The remarkable thing about this album, though, is that no voice dominates within each composition.  The impulse to go long, as his folk and prog rock predecessors might have done, is also resisted — there are few wasted notes or words.  Less is more sometimes, and service here is done to Song.

“The Leaves They Fall” is a video Wade put together for Derring Do, which gives a good general idea of the album’s direction

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=diKQgjmnk0I

but I think most representative (and beautiful) is “To the Sea,” with its on-fire electric outro:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fywm2bUM0D0

I caught up with Chris Wade the other day — after hearing the record, I wanted to ask him some questions, which he graciously consented to answer.  I think he tells Dodson and Fogg’s story best, plus he reminded me I need to read more Dickens.

I’ve read you spent a lot of time in your teens with a guitar and a 4-track.  That kind of intimate warmth is present on Derring Do.  It’s loose, not precise, something so tempting in our digital world.  Describe your recording process — are these home studio recordings?
Yeah, these are done in my home studio. I knew that with a simple set up, a microphone miking it all up like in the old days, it would make the record sound like it was perhaps from my favourite era of music, late 60s, early 70s. I basically start with an acoustic track, which I might double up, then do a bass track, then start on the vocals, then anything else comes in after that. On Derring Do I definitely got this down to a proper functioning way of doing it. You do need to have a plan when you’re recording and producing yourself. The great part is when other people send their things for the mix, that’s when it comes to life, especially when Celia [Humphris] sends some of her vocals over.

What’s the inspiration for the name Dodson and Fogg? (I can’t get out my head Lindisfarne’s Fog on the Tyne.)
Dodson and Fogg were two lawyers in Dickens’ Pickwick Papers. I thought it had a cool ring to it and I like the fact the name has caused a bit of confusion. Some people have gone in assuming it was a duo, but it’s me really with guest musicians. I love Lindisfarne as well, funny you should mention them. I just did a piece on them for my magazine Hound Dawg and all surviving members contributed text for it. Great band.

Anyone familiar with the history of the British folk revival will recognize some of Derring Do’s contributors.  How did you come to work with Judy Dyble, Celia Humphris and Alison O’Donnell? How about Nik Turner of Hawkwind? Is that his flute I hear?
Yeah, Nik is great on the flute, he did some amazing stuff on the first album. It was a matter of emailing them to ask if they’d be interested. I’ve always thought ‘you never know until you try’ and I have been a bit of a cheeky git in the past. But Nik and Judy did their bits and emailed them across to me. But Celia is very much more involved in the whole thing. She contributes a lot of vocals and puts in a lot of time to this, so I am really grateful of that. She’s done loads of good stuff on Derring Do, given the album a real nice touch. I still can’t believe they took the time out do it and as a big fan of trees and Celia’s voice, it’s amazing to have her on the songs. her voice is stronger than ever too, she really is very very talented.

I love how you use horns (thinking here of What Goes Around and Too Bright).  Can you talk about your approach to arranging your songs?
I’m glad you like the horns. Arranging a track, I like to record what I think is a decent simple acoustic and vocal track, and then think of an instrument or a sound that may make it a little bit different, unusual, but it has to fit just right. Colin Jones, the trumpet player, did some brilliant things on the Derring Do album. He’s a nice bloke as well. I see mixing a track like doing a painting, without sounding pretentious (which i probably just have sounded) because you lay sounds on, mix them around, put them in one speaker to balance it out, turn them up, turn them down, and sometimes delete them from the mix. I love that process, I could do it all day (sometimes I have been doing that actually).

Nice lead guitar and solos – is that you, or who’s responsible? Can you tell us something about choosing your tones?
Thanks, yeah that’s me on electric guitar. I love playing the guitar, it’s always my favourite part of doing a track, writing and playing the solo. I just play naturally really, whatever I feel should come out. I use a Tanglewood SG on the albums. I mike the amp up, make sure there’s a lot of treble on the guitar and that’s basically it. A reviewer said it was shredding and a sharp sound. I like to use the electric every now and then, and not necessarily on every track, because it has more power when it comes up then. I’ve been playing since I was a kid, but I don’t think i really started understanding that sometimes less is more and that a solo should be a properly structured piece of music in itself rather than a random improvised noodle, although i do like them, just not in my own songs because I’m crap at them.

Can you describe your vocal approach (I notice on the first record you double your vocal a lot, less so on Derring Do — which I like).
I like to sing within a range that is comfortable. One thing I don’t really like is loud, high singing, because I have a low voice and if I try and go higher i sound like my balls are in a vice or being chewed by a rabid hound. So I like to keep it comfortable and also easier to listen to. No one wants to hear someone struggling with high notes, not much of a pleasant experience really. But I like the voice to sound strong and loud in the mix, so you can hopefully hear all the lyrics. The cool thing is having proper singers with you on the songs who really can use their voices, when Celia’s voice comes into the mix I sometimes have to pinch myself. It’s brilliant.

I hear a musical leap between the debut and Derring Do, which seems, musically and lyrically, far more focused.  Am I hearing right, and would you elaborate if I am?
Yeah i think there is a leap. I’m not a seasoned pro with proper writing and recording so I guess i am still learning and developing a style, which is really exciting and I’m really glad you recognised the shift in styles. I started recording Derring Do before the first one was out and knew I felt like expanding the sound a bit. When I recorded the first one I was kind of testing what I could do on this set up and a lot of it is safer in a way. With Derring Do I wanted it to sound fuller, more elaborate at points and also more varied, like an album with lots of moods, styles and shades, which is quite a progressive approach. But a lot of the time anyone recording music is just doing what they feel like doing that day and going where the song is taking them.

There’s a lot going on in these songs, threads of past and present.  Who are some of your influences, and who of your contemporaries do you follow?
I mostly love music from the 60s and 70s, but wasn’t born until 1985. I always love listening to Donovan, Jethro Tull, The Kinks, Cat Stevens, Frank Zappa, King Crimson, Pink Floyd, Trees… I am not sure how they influence the music but some reviewers have heard bits of Trees, Tull, Barrett and Crimson in the music, but you never really know yourself do you? I don’t really follow modern music really, only bits and pieces, although I know I should.

How would you describe (I hate to say it, but “categorize”) your own music?
For the first album I just thought of it as a folk rock album, but found that a lot of folk sites and shows didn’t think it was pure folk enough, and then people started calling it ‘acid folk’ which was a term I didn’t know until then. I thought they were accusing me of being a spaced out acid head or something. The only thing I have in excess is malt loaf (mmm… malt loaf). But people have also called it ‘progressive folk’ which I like. it seems to work under that category i think.

You’re a busy man, a writer, musician, visual artist — what excites you most about what you do?
I’m most excited by the music now, it’s really took hold of me and I love putting the work into it. I love the fact I get to do the mix, sort out the artwork, royalties, promo, everything. If it’s your job then why not make it your proper job and put full time work into it. That’s what excites me, and also the thrill of creating something you’re really enjoying. I’ve done a mix of things, like the audiobook with the comedian Rik Mayall  but it doesn’t come near the enjoyment of making music. I don’t like having to deal with egos and awkward people who are more interested in their images than the work you’re creating. It isn’t the best way of spending your time. I have a working class ethic to it, it’s a job and you fund it and do it yourself, because no one else is going to do it for you.

On the pages of Progarchy we regularly (short-lived as we are) hear from artists who struggle to find reward for what they do.  What’s your perspective on this? Can a musician be just a musician anymore? What’s the easiest way for someone not familiar with Dodson and Fogg access your music?
Luckily for me I have quite a lot of projects that are out there, so the music is just one of my things available, if you like. I think it might be hard to survive on royalties alone these days, but then again I am really new to the “music biz” (business I mean, not poo) so I don’t really know too much about it. I’m still learning. The CDs are available from my website, where all my stuff is available, but you can also download from bandcamp and also Itunes, Amazon and all the digital stores. But the easiest way is to type in Dodson and Fogg to the Google search and the top result is my website. All the info is there.

What’s next for you?
I’ve got some promotion to do and sorting things out for the album, and also doing some articles for the next Hound Dawg magazine. After that i think I’ll start on album number three, which will be really fun!

Thanks to Chris Wade for such generous responses. Check out Dodson and Fogg’s website here:
http://wisdomtwinsbooks.weebly.com/dodson-and-fogg.html

and online back issues of Chris’s Hound Dawg: http://wisdomtwinsbooks.weebly.com/hound-dawg-magazine-online.html

Craig Breaden, February 2013

In Praise of Shoegaze

On By chuckhicksIn Progarchy8 Comments
slowdive1
Rachel Goswell of Slowdive

And there in the square he lay alone 
without face without crown 
and the angel who looked upon 
never came down 

you never know what day could pick you baby 
out of the air, out of nowhere 

~ Sun Kil Moon, “Duk Koo Kim” (2003)

Was it excess, or a change in consumer preference?  Either or both, progressive rock music of the 1970’s ran afoul of the burgeoning punk rock scene.  Carefully constructed compositions ranging from eight to 25 minutes (or longer) gave way to three-minute outbursts of street angst resonating with a culture sick and tired of inflation and corruption and openly questioning the permanent things — things (classical, jazz, church music) that progressive rock had integrated (unwittingly, subconsciously) into its ethos.

Then, after a decade of new wave, new romanticism, and sundry forms of techno (music for the masses) there arose the Cocteau Twins and My Bloody Valentine.   Suddenly, pop song structure, melodic hooks, and outfront lead vocals were enveloped in a blizzard of distortion and dissonance.  Critics, ever wary of the latest “art” project, disparagingly labeled it “shoegazing,” noting the performers’ penchant for staring down (likely at their effects pedals) on stage.  Steve Sunderland (Melody Maker) went a step further, describing what he called “The Scene that Celebrates Itself” — in part, because the gazers attended each other’s gigs and drank together.  It was too much like rugby and less like football.  If the former is about gentlemen playing a hooligan’s game, then the press were quick to spot what they suspected were middle class values at play.  This could not end well.

At length did cross an Albatross / Thorough the fog it came…

But to back up a bit.  Whatever spirit inhabited the soundtrack of David Lynch’s Twin Peaks seems to have been carried aloft during that show’s run, falling out of the sky in the Thames Valley.  It descended upon a group of Reading teenagers who called themselves Slowdive.   Where to begin?  If one samples Slowdive’s output (three albums, six EP’s) there is no way to pin down the band’s idiom.   There are the ostensibly pop ballads (“Alison,” “Sleep”), Eno-induced trances (“Souvlaki Space Station,” “Changes”), pre-Kid A ambient exercises (“Option One,” “Sinewaves”), dark grunge (“So Tired”), ethereal raptures (“Catch the Breeze,” “Shine”), and others (“Albatross”) that defy categorization.

Like sorcerers they summoned other-worldly sounds from their guitars.  If there’s a common thread it is the drone — catching the breeze of an unorthodox riff, maybe two chords, and riding it in an ever-widening gyre.

Even a few of their loyal fans would say Slowdive spun out of control with 1995’s experimental Pygmalion.  By the time of its release British ears were drawn to Oasis and Blur, a Britpop North-South rivalry loaded to the hilt with working class ethos the press could celebrate.

“Revolution,” yes.  “Revolution 9,” no.  Within a year Slowdive had morphed into the country/folk Mojave 3.

I’ve Got a Gal… in Ypsilanti

While Slowdive was relinquishing the gazing muse, another obscure stateside band was taking it up.  Trey Many (pr. “may’-nee”), the drummer for Warn Defever’s His Name is Alive, was developing a side project at Eastern Michigan University.   Together with art student Amon Krist (daughter of folk singer Jan Krist) he formed Velour 100 and signed with Seattle’s alternative label, Tooth & Nail.

Velour+100
Amon Krist (left) and Trey Many

Velour 100’s first full-length recording was Fall Sounds (1996) with Many on all instruments and Krist on lead vocals (and occasional acoustic guitar).  Right away the listener finds the music here focused and thematically linked — a concept album based on the pair’s experiences of loss and renewal informed by their Christian faith.  The same dense, hypnotic atmospherics present with Slowdive are found here; but Many keeps the listening interesting with changes and unusual time signatures.  “Dub Space” is a sparkling eight and half minute tone poem that could have emerged from the waterfall at the end of “Close to the Edge.”  The strongest track on the album — and, in my view, among the best three and a half minutes of the ’90s — is “Flourish”:

http://grooveshark.com/s/Flourish/504rKT?src=5

Velour 100 never received a bad critical review.  As Krist departed to complete her studies and launch a teaching career, the duo’s first demo recording was re-recorded and released as Songs From the Rainwater EP to high praise.  Many produced one more LP, Of Color Bright (1997) that featured three female lead vocalists, including ex-Sixpence None the Richer guitarist Tess Wiley.  Wiley co-wrote “Dolphin Grey,” which showcases her distinctive alto against a splash of jangling guitars:

http://grooveshark.com/s/Dolphin+Grey/4FPo6B?src=5

Many recorded a final four-song EP, For An Open Sky (1999), with soon-to-breakout vocalist Rosie Thomas.  He now lends his formidable production skills to projects for other bands.

Ghosts of the Great Gaze

By the end of the ’90s “shoegazing” (or “dream pop”) was figured a dead letter.  Its artsy sensibilities (pretenses, to some) were destined to remain out of favor with an X Factor world.  But even into the 2000’s there remain artists who pay homage to the genre.   An excellent example is the expansive “Duk Koo Kim” by Mark Kozelek’s side project, Sun Kil Moon.  Aptly described by one listener as “magical sad tragic wonderful,” it is a meditation on mortality inspired by the Korean boxer who died from injuries suffered in a bout with Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini in 1982 (in fact, much of Sun Kil Moon’s Ghosts of the Great Highway is inspired by the stories of fighters).

In shoegazing fashion, the guitars ring and leave auras of reverb in their wake, Kozelek’s falsettos submerged in the melodies.  Unlike Slowdive’s binary pieces, “Duk Koo Kim” has three distinct sections, and (in prog rock proportion) sprawls over 14 minutes — each representing the number of rounds Kim lasted in the ring before succumbing.

Come to me once more my love 
show me love I’ve never known 
sing to me once more my love 
words from your younger years 
sing to me once more my love 
songs that I love to hear 

The Musical Biz

On By Time LordIn Progarchy3 Comments

TheMusicalBox

Carlton Wilkinson reflects on the nature of music, arriving at a fundamental principle, which helps him think about the future of music:

Music is inherently live and therefore inherently local. The future of the music business is not in product sales, but in the service of that artist-listener relationship. Artists are thinking about tech. They’re embracing it and using it to reach their audiences directly.

He does this in “Pandora’s Box Is Open and the Music Biz Will Never Be the Same“, which develops a fascinating argument about how music is not a commodity:

It’s not a product that can be assembled in a production line or held in your hands. It’s something that comes naturally from every living person — some better than others — and can be enjoyed by every living person, for free as long as the musician is willing, with no other assistance needed.

The standard business model, perfected in the age of vinyl recordings, presented music as a tangible thing — a record — that a businessman could manufacture and sell like any other widget. But the music on those records is only a captured bit of the ephemeral, constantly changing musical experience.

A Bruce Springsteen song is never exactly the same two concerts in a row. A performance of Beethoven or Bach sounds different depending on who is playing, and were those composers themselves to play their most famous music for us, we would likely hear shocking differences from the versions we know — more radical than any modern interpreter would dare.

The experience of music is determined by its creators and by its listeners. By definition it is never completely recreated, but is created anew every time. It happens in the moment and will change in the next moment.

The traditional music business, built around the sale of fixed music recordings, handles manufacturing, packaging and distributing, middlemen selling something they didn’t make themselves, something never really theirs to begin with.

These days, though, tech is trashing that model, by fits and starts turning the business of music from a product-based market into something more like a social media service directly connecting artists and listeners.

Wilkinson earlier made his impassioned point that music is not a commodity in an insightful review of the music that Obama put on display for his second inaugural, “Obama’s Hit Parade“:

… I can overlook the lip-synching. What’s more disturbing, what I find harder to forgive, is the programming emphasis on pop music performers, including Beyonce and Kelly Clarkson, at the ceremony and elsewhere. …

The world of pop music has always revolved around money, the more the better. Money’s influence alters not just the way the music is presented, but the way it is created and the expectations of the creators and the audience. Success in this field is a dollar figure.

Classical and jazz don’t work that way. The musicians need to get paid, sure, and most aren’t above playing weddings or in some ways tailoring their music to suit their audience. Money pressures exist, but they don’t dominate the art form. Success here is rooted in technical accomplishment and in the musical experience itself.

When a classical artist verges on mass popularity, like Yo-Yo Ma, companies like Sony will maneuver themselves into a position to profit from it. But Ma didn’t get where he is by thinking about money — he got there by being a terrific cellist, and an inquisitive musician, constantly challenging himself, branching into new areas. His success was established long before big money entered the picture and continues largely because he is able to rely on his true artistic nature and ignore the role of money.

Pop musicians sometimes emulate that model, ignoring the financial rewards and following where talent and curiosity lead. Often they find themselves in a better place as a result, connecting more easily and honestly with audiences, developing a longer career trajectory.

They don’t let the money get in the way. …

Early in his first term, Obama made a commitment to present the U.S. cultural landscape in all its diversity. At that first inauguration, he shared the podium with Ma, Itzhak Perlman, Gabriela Montero and Anthony McGill playing a John Williams variation on the Shaker hymn “Simple Gifts.” He followed up on his promise by hosting workshops and concerts in various styles at the White House during the first year or two he was in office.

But at this year’s inaugural, that broader cultural perspective seems to have gone missing, narrowed to focus more fully on the most common commercial tendencies, music as a commodity.

Geddy Lee recently appeared on a TV sitcom in which the episode mocked Canadian culture as backwards, the fictional case in point being that its culture was transformed only much later by grunge. (In reality, of course, Rush’s prog metal had already allowed Canada to transform the musical world. Thus, Lee’s fake testimony on the sitcom imparts a delicious taste of irony to the self-deprecating joke being made at Canada’s expense.) Part of being able to get the joke was being able to comprehend the standard narrative that grunge changed the world of rock forever.

But Jason Notte, inspired by Wilkinson, debunks that standard narrative in “Nirvana’s ‘Nevermind’ and The Death of Guy Rock” by arguing that Nirvana in fact provided a negative example, by making clear only what rock cannot exclusively become—namely, grunge and grunge alone:

So where does Nirvana fit into all of this? Well, the familiar narrative says they did the world a big, huge favor by ridding it of hair bands and arena rock and making it safe for garage bands again. That’s not quite how it played out. The grunge and post-grunge era music world was filled with as much belabored growling, on-stage preening and aggro nonsense as ever, as evidenced by the lineup, fires and ensuing rioting and rapes that engulfed the ill-fated Woodstock ’99.

What Kurt Cobain and, later, Dave Grohl taught and most folks didn’t hear until Napster gave away much of the music and Woodstock ’99 made it very clear was that “rock” and, more importantly, pop music can’t be an exclusionary club filled with angry boys. …

Without making a concerted effort to do so, Cobain was being as inclusionary as he could within the confines of his genre. It’s something you hear echoes of in Jack White’s work and in his previous albums with the White Stripes and it’s something the Black Keys have reached for in their own blues-based fuzz rock and their collaborations with artists from various genres.

Inclusion is the common thread. …

That’s ultimately the key lesson from Nirvana and Smells Like Teen Spirit: It changed music and, more specifically, rock music by making “rock” sound nothing like Nirvana.

In other words, rock continues to progress. And it does so in its history by discovering innovative ways to facilitate inclusion and participation.

And that, arguably, is why progressive rock is the exemplary flower of the rock genre. Because, as is suggested by its lengthy songs and its display of musical virtuosity within the framework of group dynamics, it offers the greatest musical space for the flowering of inclusion and participation and a satisfying local experience.

Witness the relationship between the artists and the listeners of progressive rock. In our own time, Big Big Train is showing us how music, not as a commodity, but as a work of art that invites listeners to an immersive and unrepeatable experience, can bypass the music industry and allow rock to be what it is supposed to be according to its essence: namely, a musical experience of transcendence.

As Greg Spawton has observed:

In The Music’s All That Matters, Paul Stump makes some very interesting observations. Early on in the book, he correctly identifies that the main problem with progressive rock is its name (he calls it ‘the most self-consciously adjectival genre in all rock’). Another point that Paul Stump makes is about what unites the musicians of the genre. He says they have ‘a hankering after the transcendent’. I really like that phrase as it can take on a broader meaning than ‘progressive’. In Big Big Train, we combine our influences in a way, which is often original. But trying to do something different isn’t the be-all-and-end-all. What we are really trying to do is to make extraordinary music.

There’s only one way that prog rock can touch you.

And that is: in the present moment.

So why don’t you let it?

Now, now, now…

Nascent, Nascent: The Natural Order of Talk Talk

On By bradbirzerIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

I’ve offered my “Talk Talk” testimony so many times, it’s probably getting a bit ridiculous.  To sum up, I really, really, really, really, really (well you get the idea) like Talk Talk, and I have since the spring of 1987, when I first encountered them by chance.  Further, I would have to rank “Spirit of Eden” as one of my two or three rock albums of all time.

Phew.

Talk-Talk-Natural-Order-1982-1991So, much to my surprise the other day, I saw that Mark Hollis had emerged from his seemingly J.D. Salinger like-life (may Salinger rest in peace) to release, under his official direction, a Talk Talk compilation.  It’s entitled “Natural Order,” and it just arrived.

Most of the others, frankly, from “Natural History” to the remixes to . . . . Well, let’s face it, Talk Talk just can’t be broken into parts.  The albums come as a whole.  I don’t just plop “Colour of Spring” or “Spirit of Eden” or “Laughing Stock” into the CD player when dropping the kids off at school or running to the supermarket to get milk.  No, these last three albums require attention and love.  Listening to them casually would like roller skating through the Field Museum in Chicago or jogging through the Nelson Museum of Art in Kansas City. Continue reading “Nascent, Nascent: The Natural Order of Talk Talk” →

The Missing Link Between Thomas Dolby and Kurt Cobain

On By Thaddeus WertIn Uncategorized2 Comments

dissociativesA couple of recent posts on Progarchy regarding Thomas Dolby’s first two masterful albums brought to mind an album that fellow progsters may not be aware of: The Dissociatives. Probably my favorite album of the first decade of this century (What do we call that? The noughts?  The double-zeros?), The Dissociatives was a side project of Silverchair’s Daniel Johns and Paul Mac. Daniel Johns is an insanely talented songwriter and guitarist – Silverchair’s debut album, Frogstomp (1995), was recorded when he was at the ripe old age of 15. It’s basically a reiteration of Nirvana’s Nevermind sound, but by their fourth album, 2002’s Diorama, he had outgrown the limitations of grunge. It featured sweeping orchestration and complex compositions that were as far removed from Nirvana as King Crimson is from the Spice Girls.

In 2004, he released The Dissociatives, which is a wonderful blend of synthpop, progrock, and Beatlesque melodies. The first song, “We’re Much Preferred Customers”, marries absurdist lyrics – “welcome to planet pod/where insects sound like lasers/and men who wear abrasive hats/with eyeballs judge like juries/and skin that flakes like ancient paint/suffocate contentment/birds creep over tin roofs/like criminals with tap shoes” – to a dark melody that transforms into an irresistible pop confection that leaves the listener panting for more.

And more there is, as each song moves from one peak of pop/prog perfection (extra points for alliteration?) to the next. There are a couple of instrumentals that are impossible not to hum along with, and the whole thing closes with a gentle lullaby, “Sleep Well Tonight”. The big hit, in Johns’ Australia at least, is “Somewhere Down The Barrel”.  The official video for it is below. If your interest is piqued, trust me, you’ll love the entire album.

After The Dissociatives, Johns released another brilliant album with Silverchair, Young Modern. Recorded with Van Dyke Parks (who cowrote Smile with Brian Wilson), it is a masterpiece in its own right. But that’s a topic for another post!