As We Make Our Way (Unknown Harbours)

Sophia

As We Make Our Way (Unknown Harbours)

(The Flower Shop Recordings)

There is something special about each Sophia album.  Each album is immaculately recorded.  Every instrument shines with clarity and depth. Each album is sleeved with tastefully simple but effective artwork and packaging.  And, of course, it always takes some effort to track down.  I first encountered Sophia twenty years ago when I purchased a double 7” single that included two songs each from long-time favorite Swervedriver, and Sophia.  Both Sophia songs assured that I would be hooked on this new band.  Unfortunately, that would be the last time I ever saw one of their records or CDs in an actual record store, so it’s always been about tracking down each release via mail order. 

Robin Proper-Sheppard is essentially Sophia.  He has led various incarnations of his band now over six fantastic and incredibly consistent albums spanning the last twenty years.  As We Make Our Way is no exception.  Though it’s been seven long years since the last tour de force There Are No Goodbyes, it’s clear that Sheppard has not lost his way, at least musically.  He has always been a voice of clarity for the downtrodden.  His lyrics have always represented those of us who have a hard time accepting our lot in life and feel regretful over pretty much every decision we’ve ever made.  He accepts the blame for all of our wrong-doings and finally comes right out and says so in “Blame” halfway through this collection (“it’s okay, I’ll take the blame / for the both of us), atop his ever present acoustic strum and piano phrase that mirrors the short instrumental opener “Unknown Harbours.”

Things really take off with the powerfully pounding drums of the epic “Resisting.”  The simple repeated lyrics ask why we’re always resisting (Temptation?  Leadership?  Status Quo? Happiness?), while the music swells to dramatic highs that hint at the huge orchestrated songs from Swans’ 1991 album White Light from the Mouth of Infinity.  It’s a song that has the patience to allow the musical tension to build and build, making the conclusion that much more satisfying.  The next two songs, “The Drifter” and “Don’t Ask,” recall Sophia’s long history of dusty downbeat trudging gliders that tell some kind of intriguing yet sad story.  Proper-Sheppard is so adept at these that they always sound fresh, even if he has already covered this ground.

Where this new album steps away from previous Sophia albums is at the start of side two.  “California” offers up a big bright sounding tune that actually feels hopeful.  Then comes along the grinding bass groove of the foot stomping “St. Tropez/The Hustle” and Robin’s falsetto in “You Say It’s Alright” over a repeated keyboard line.  The latter two tracks definitely show off some experimentation and, dare I say it, a more danceable approach. 

The final two tracks close out this collection in classic Sophia fashion.  “Baby, Hold On” is a slow builder that details his tendency to be a no show for important times in a relationship, but he offers a slight glimmer of hope that change may be coming, as he readily admits his mistakes.  Meanwhile, the closing song “It’s Easy to be Lonely” is an outstandingly effective indictment for everyone who feels sad and lonely, by pointing out that we’ve taken the easy way out.  In other words, we’ve made the decision to be this way (“Another chance to change is avoided”).  This is a beautiful and potent song and one that can be difficult to get through, as he finally points the finger at us (the lonely), instead of accepting the consequences himself, as usual.

It’s a shame that Sophia is not more widely known, especially in the U.S.  I would love the opportunity to see them perform live and hear this majestic music in person and at high volume.  However, I am thankful that they have stuck it out for so long and offered us so many great songs.

(http://www.sophiamusic.net/)

Out of the Garden

Tancred

Out of the Garden

(Polyvinyl)

Holy 1994!!  This is all I could think of when I first heard “Control Me” from Out of the Garden, Tancred’s third album.  This was my introduction to Tancred, Jess Abbott’s apparent side project.  Who is Jess Abbott?  Well, all I know is that she plays (or played?) guitar for Now, Now, whose 2012 album Threads was my #10 pick of that year (see here).  However, this does not sound like a side project.  Instead it sounds like a well-rehearsed and seasoned rock trio who were raised on a heavy dose of “alternative rock” radio.  The best music is able to transport one’s mind to another place or time or emotion and this album transports me directly to the early to mid-90s – the time after Nirvana’s big breakthrough and major record labels (remember those?) were signing any band who employed loud guitars and pop hooks to huge contracts.  This is not a slight, as Tancred have captured the best of those times with genuine energy, direct coming of age lyrics, and fantastically abrasive guitars.

Tancred utilize the loud/quiet/loud approach that Nirvana used so well, but then if you throw in the buzzing and bright melodies of bands such as Veruca Salt, The Breeders, Julianna Hatfield, and the under-appreciated That Dog (whose Anna Waronker co-produced this album) it all comes alive and sounds as vibrant and exciting as ever.  Abbott is an amazing and versatile guitarist and this trio sound like they are having fun with these songs, which is contagious. 

The three-minute pop numbers like the opening trio of “Bed Case,” the drum overloaded in-the-red bursts of “Joey,” and “Control Me” all sound FM radio ready and are as endlessly catchy as anything of its kind and fun as hell.  But it’s the more complex and darker tunes like “Not Likely” and the guitar only “Hang Me” that give this album some balance and variety.  There is an abundance of sexual euphemisms, disgust, work angst, and a newly discovered confidence all over Abbott’s lyrics and this is all best encapsulated in the explosive “Pens”, whose off-kilter verses careen into the oddball chorus of “I’m incredibly healthy in my head / It’s crazy how stable I am.” 

The album fully blossoms for me on the second side.  The quietly angry and confused “Hang Me” melds seamlessly into the album’s fastest and catchiest song “Sell My Head.”  Then comes the dark humor of “Poise,” with a chorus to die for, or kill for, in this case.  The closing “Pretty Girls” is both a deep album ender and a teaser that leaves us wanting more.  What else can one ask for? 

(https://tancred.bandcamp.com/)

Tancred "Bed Case"

California

California

California

(Blackball)

Where to begin?  As I’ve mentioned many times on this site, Jawbreaker was a huge band for me during my twenties. I have tried to track down releases from all three band members over the years since their disappearance, and drummer Adam Pfahler has always impressed, especially with the 2006 Whysall Lane album (still waiting impatiently for album #2), and I think I have an old 7” by a band named The Moons.  I was also a big fan of Green Day, especially the Lookout! Records-era records, as well as the similarly fun and energetic Billie Joe Armstrong side project Pinhead Gunpowder, also featuring guitarist Jason White. Learning that these two were part of this new project, the Google-proof California was a clincher for me to purchase without a previous sound introduction.  This trio, rounded out by bassist Dustin Clark (of The Insides and Soophie Nun Squad – unknown to me), seemed to promise a revival of the exciting East Bay punk scene from the late-80s and early 90s, where one could buy like five albums, ten 45s and a couple of T-shirts for like $30 dollars via Blacklist Mailorder.  Ah, the good ole days of getting exhausted and frustrated from reading the endless dogma in the pages of Maximum Rock-N-Roll, but all the while voraciously ordering records advertised in the very pages that constantly railed against commercialism.

The album opens with the upbeat “Hate the Pilot” that recalls those Green Day/Pinhead Gunpodwer olden days, with lyrics that call out those who dislike everything for the sake of disliking, while “Same Boat” brings to mind Unfun-era Jawbreaker with Pfahler’s ever-inventive drumming, Clark’s gliding low end and White’s chiming post-punk guitar line.  The next couple of songs also hint at the sounds that I had kind of expected, except not as reliant on power chords and volume, and resoundingly more adult.  Then the record transitions into something much different.  The songs stretch out and side one closes with “Winners” - a positive outlook on how just getting through the daily grind and surviving can be something to celebrate.  Meanwhile, side two opens with the acoustic-led duet with Rachel Haden from the also much missed That Dog.  It’s a song filled with a real life melancholy as it describes the final moments of a relationship that has run its course.  There is no last second drama, just a simple bummer ending (“There was only a last knowing glance / A smile and a wave / Goodbye and I flew way”).  Then comes along the Hammond organ adorned standout “See Your Friends” – a downtempo reminder to keep our friends close and not let the drag of depression isolate oneself.  By this point, we start to realize that this album is really a simple, but incredibly performed and tastefully recorded timeless rock-n-roll album – not a pop punk record. 

Now that I’m old and have heard what seems like everything, I find that new music often takes several listens before it starts to show its strengths or weaknesses.  I can honestly say that California gets better with each listen. 

( https://www.facebook.com/bandcalledcalifornia/)

Here's Where the Story Ends

“Please strip down to your underwear and put on this gown,” the lovely young nurse’s assistant stated flatly as she swung the curtain closed at the foot of the hospital bed.  “Put your clothes in this bag,” she added.

I sat on the side of the bed and flung my new slip on shoes into the wall near where I had left my cane.  I began to wonder if I should put the cane somewhere else, as I suddenly became fearful that I would lose it here. I balled up my wet socks and stuck them into one of the shoes.  My feet had already been drenched with sweat, despite only having them on for the previous half hour or so.  It was inside-oven-hot outside, even though it was only mid-April and only mid-morning.  Plus, for some unknown reason, I have been retaining fluid like I was still a dialysis patient.  My ankles looked like an elephant’s. 

I attempted to fold my pants and shirt, but my left hand was not cooperating.  Ever since the stroke last Halloween, there has been no signs of improvement on that front.  I actually do practice my Occupational Therapy exercises nearly every day, but to no avail.  My fingers fumbled around behind my neck in a feeble attempt to tie the tiny back side open gown.  My left thumb seemed to dart back and forth of its own accord, getting in the way from the simple task of securing the gown.  I started to sense sighs and impatience from the outside of the curtain as I struggled unsuccessfully in the shadows, so I stretched my right arm out to pull the curtain open and requested help.

“You can tie the gown first and put it over your head,” the nursing student was clearly exasperated as she moved in behind me and pulled the strings quickly into a knot.

“Good idea!  Wish I‘d thought of that,” I responded.  I still cannot tie a knot!

“Lie down on the bed,” she commanded as she walked around the bed to the computer terminal, whose keyboard hovered over my left shoulder.  She placed a brand new, apparently disposable blood pressure cuff onto my left arm and asked me to state my name and date of birth, as the cuff automatically began to squeeze my formerly fistula’d left arm so tight I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears.

I looked up at the nursing assistant who was leaning over me with a stethoscope listening to my heart and lungs.  She was likely half my age.  How did I get so old?  It wasn't that long ago that I remember so vividly coming to after my first surgery and seeing a smiling nurse leaning over me, looking like a Madonna Wanna-Be.  I closed my eyes and concentrated on the hum of the air ventilation system and the hushed voices coming from the five other beds filled with people either returning from or preparing for an endoscopic ultrasound like I was.

“Please state your name and date of birth,” came the startling voice of the nurse, who was running this little wing of the old hospital.  She had replaced the young girl who was now observing from the foot of the bed.  “Have you been out of the country in the last thirty days? Have you been in contact with someone who has been out of the country in the last thirty days?”

I felt a few quick slaps on the crook of my right arm.  Another nurse was preparing to insert an IV needle.  She studied my arm closely.  Holding it upright by my hand and smacking it in different places.

“Why are you here today?”

Beep.  The nurse on my left stretched her laser gun across my gut to scan the barcode on my right wrist which I dutifully held aloft.

Slap slap slap.

“Have you ever had this procedure done before?”

Slap slap thud.

My limp arm fell back to my side.  I could a hear a few strips of tape being pulled and ripped and stuck onto the bed’s railing. 

“Have you had any recent hospitalizations?”

“Ready for a poke!”

The poke reminded me of the sudden stabs by the massive dialysis needles they used to slide into my arm three times a week.  Not like the mild sting from the labs I had drawn the two previous days.

“I see you’ve been on dialysis; did you get a transplant?”

“Hmmm.  I’m not getting anything.”

She slowly moved the needle around in a search for my vein.  The poor vein all of the needles are initially aimed for.  It’s no wonder it rolls away from any sign of danger.

Snap!  The nurse undid the bright orange rubber band she had used to tighten around my arm.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Brintha, I will be doing your procedure today.  Please tell me your name and date of birth.”

Slap slap slap.  The nurse began smacking the back of my right hand.

“Have you ever had an endoscopy before?”

“These all look like valves to me!”

“Have you or someone you’ve been in contact with been out of the country in the last thirty days?”

“A little poke!”

An intense burning sensation radiated through my hand.  I opened my eyes a little and looked at the nurse moving the needle around the back of my hand.  No blood was appearing in the tiny tube on the opposite end of the needle, which felt like molten lava being spread evenly onto my hand with a butter knife.

“So, the procedure will take about an hour…”

I closed my eyes again.

“Can you cup your hand?”

“We will spray some nasty tasting goo into your throat…”

“There it is!  Hold your hand still!”

“It will numb your throat, but you may still have a sore throat afterwards.”

“Can you keep your hand in that position?” the nurse asked as she taped the IV needle in place.

“We will be looking at your pancreas.  There are some cysts in there…”

“There you go.”

“If anything looks odd, I will take a biopsy.”

The voices began to fade away.  I felt completely empty – devoid of emotion.  I started to think about an early teenage crush I once had and how I felt sick to my stomach all of the time – not just when she was around – but all the time.  Oddly, not so different from how I felt at that moment.  I wondered if this would be the last of this hospital shit for a while, or just the beginning of another long stint.  Like that long ago crush, I somehow knew that nothing good was going to come from this.  

Red Returns

Desario

Red Returns EP

(Test Pattern)

I’ve not yet had the privilege to see Sacramento four-piece Desario live, but with this terrific new EP, I feel like I’ve been transported into a small dark club hunkered down near the stage completely entranced by their exciting sound.  I’ve already loved their first two albums for some time now and their tight detailed twin guitar interplay has continued to grow on me, but these four new songs feel a little different - a little more urgent and alive.  Where those first two LPs (2009’s Zero Point Zero and 2012’s Mixer) were very cleanly recorded, this recording is grittier.  It’s a mild change up, as they have not lost their knack for stellar guitar melodies from John Conley and Michael Yoas, but now new drummer’s Kirklyn Cox’s pounding is more dynamic and upfront, and the bass-lines crackle like you’re seeing Mike Carr pluck the strings in person.

The EP opens with the timeless sounding “Fallen,” whose chorus, rides atop a burbling bass-line, feels like it’s been a part of my list of favorite all-time songs for years.  Conley’s, always calm and friendly vocals do not betray the turmoil and increasing intensity that the music describes.  It’s a wonderful combination.  Meanwhile, “Capture” opens with a wistful and longing guitar line that harkens back to The Ocean Blue’s incredible “Drifting, Falling.”  The upbeat “Down Among Them” may be Desario’s shortest and most direct song, and much like “Fallen,” the song increases in density and urgency as it progresses.  Finally, the closing, “Red Returns” stretches out a bit, as it details the desire to rid oneself of all memories, contact and feelings of a former or about to be former love (“erase me from you”).  The pounding bass drum beats like a broken heart fighting to go on, as Yoas and Conley exorcise demons and jam out between verses. 

Desario have managed to subtlety tighten their already solid foundation and release their best collection yet.  I sure hope that there is a full length album on the horizon, because I cannot recommend this enough. 

(https://testpatternrecords.bandcamp.com/album/red-returns)

Movement

There is a young gal who volunteers at the non-profit I work for who has become my hero.  I do not know what issues she’s had to deal with specifically, but I do know that less than two years ago she was in a motorized wheel chair.  She would struggle with one hand to control the levers that operated the chair and she would arrive with her fellow classmates in a bus from a local High School – all under constant supervision.  I was often in a position to provide tasks for these students, as part of their volunteerism/therapy.  She was always the quietest, as she seemed to struggle to communicate, and she was seemingly the least motivated to get involved.

In the spring of 2014, I was invited to a graduation ceremony for many of these students.  I found myself overcome with emotion, as the teachers and administrators gave out awards and certificates to these kids and told stories of their burgeoning independence.  It was touching to learn about their strides and efforts made throughout their time at school.  It made me realize, more than ever, not to take anything that I do have for granted.  But then, of course, I kind of forgot.

Last Halloween, I experienced a hemorrhagic stroke.  The genetic disorder Von Hippel Lindau (VHL) that I’ve written about in these pages numerous times before ( like here) was the culprit.  I had a small hemangioblastoma that decided to burst, which, while wandering the streets, trick or treating with some friend’s kids, caused a major headache, nausea and an inability to walk without drifting sideways.  Of course, I did not know this at the time, nor did I seek medical help for a couple of days – thinking things would improve, which is strange since I was with a close friend when he had a stroke and I’ve seen the horrific damaging effects of a brain hemorrhage on my brother.

After Halloween, things got much worse.  First, I had another brain bleed and it wasn’t long before I lost the ability to walk at all, while also losing control of my left side.  I spent much of November and December in the hospital and half of January in an inpatient rehabilitation hospital. 

During these extended hospital stays, my life became centered around very basic things.  Did I have a bowel movement today?  Can I touch my nose and touch my doctor’s index finger alternately with the index finger of each of my hands?  Can I stand without holding on to something for support for 30 seconds without falling?  You get the gist.  I found myself super excited and incredibly nervous when my physical therapist had me walk a few steps without aid and I was able to do so.  I found myself overcome with a huge swell of emotion when I was able to stand and touch my left foot to a step and return it with actual control and without violently falling to my right like I had every previous time.  These tiny victories were the only things that motivated me and continue to keep me going to my weekly physical therapy appointments. 

Once again, I am now able to drive.  I am able to walk with the aid of a cane.  I am able to shop for groceries and make my own simple meals.  I can do laundry and kind of clean my apartment and myself.  Everything takes more effort than I could’ve ever imagined prior to the stroke, and it all takes a lot more time than it ever used to.  My left hand seems to continue to do its own thing, which is a constant frustration, but I am getting by.

I see that same young gal volunteering at work a couple of times a week now that I am back at work.  She continues to come in, except these days she comes in on her own.  She has progressed so that she stands on her feet and uses a four-wheel walker, in place of a wheelchair, and she travels to and from the work place on the regular bus completely on her own.  She is always bright and cheery and outgoing and she now does projects that take fine motor skills without hesitation nor does she ever show frustration.  She is amazing!  She has gained so much independence and has achieved so much in such a short amount of time.  She is such an inspiration, as she continues to gain her independence, and she has taught me so much.  I can only hope that I progress and achieve as much as she has.

The Art of Telling the Truth

Magnet School

The Art of Telling the Truth

(Shifting Sounds)

It was way back in 2013 that I was introduced to the smashing two song single “Fur & Velvet” from Austin, TX four-piece Magnet School (#26 from 2013’s best of here).  Thankfully, the band continued their diligent work and did not disappear on us, because The Art of Telling the Truth is an outstanding collection!  In my review of “Fur & Velvet” and the menacing crawl of the dangerous sounding instrumental “swandive,” (both included on the LP) I referenced the heavy twin guitar attack of the Swervedriver, which I still stand by, however, the production and the soft blending of the exploratory guitars of Michael J. Wane and Mark Ford remind of Ferment-era Catherine Wheel, which is about as high of praise as I can offer.  Yet it’s the cranking rhythm section of Brandon Tucker and Erik Conn that ground the intertwining guitar melodies and layers of controlled feedback.

This is not necessarily what one would normally expect from a Texas band, but these days with the great shoegaze focus of Fort Worth record label Saint Marie, and bands like Austin’s all over the map Ringo Deathstarr, to the promising postpunk of the debut EP from Dallas’ The Hourly Radio (going back like ten plus years ago), I guess one never should pre-judge.

I love that there are three instrumentals among these ten songs, because Magnet School’s strengths lie in their ability to paint a vivid and exciting picture with their music alone, yet songs like “Fur & Velvet,” the opening “We Were Golden” and the rainy melancholy of “British Monuments” are all sing-along catchy.  Meanwhile, the soaring “Irresistible Lie” and “So Long to the Heavens” (both of which bring to mind Camden’s debut Reel Time Canvas from the turn of the century) find the vocals down in the mix, not rising above the fantastic arrangements.  The penultimate song, “Red Giant,” is a down tempo number that has explosive turns, all while seemingly overstating the importance of a fierce breakdancing throw-down (not really sure what’s going on, but it’s still one of my favorites here).

If you enjoy dreamy guitar rock – with an emphasis on the “rock,” then this album should be most pleasing to your ears.  It is available in three different colors of vinyl as well, so pick up a copy while supplies last and be sure to play it loud!

(https://magnetschool.bandcamp.com/)

Magnet School "British Monuments"