Local Tracks on the Web

By David Pence

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gully: “Georgians” • myspace.com/gullytheband

Here’s the first great power-pop track from Gully. “Georgians” is an entertaining three-way tussle between loathing, longing, and self-doubt. The song’s verses lurch forward on a lengthy chord progression that takes surprising turns and refuses to resolve. But the really queasy fun begins in the variegated chorus. Slashes of guitar on the backbeat buttress the lyric “I’m shaking ’cause I lost the cure,” while backing vocals provide a comic overlay by repeating parts of the lines, Beatles-style. Then we’re propelled into a maelstrom of more forceful playing and Oscar Romero’s compelling stutter – “ah-ah-ah-ah-I’m a raging retribution.” This, in turn, gives way to several voices joining together to sing the song’s first elongated notes, the melody climbing up and down and finally coming to rest with the lyrics, “Where do we all get off? Are we selfish hoods? Are we selfish broads?” An exhilarating tour of inner torment in 3:19. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Red F: “Morning Fellowship” • myspace.com/theredf

Like many good ballads, “Morning Fellowship” is at once simple and deep. Tim Burns, of Ponys/Phantom Buffalo fame, has created a hushed, melancholic soundscape defined by its formality. There’s Burns’ choice of language (“bonny bride,” “the morning fellowship”), his restrained lead vocal and instrumentation (nylon-stringed acoustic guitar and simple, sustained organ notes), and the song’s straightforward progression of four chords. Yet two elements tweak, or mock, the formality: a thin, twisting sound that may or may not be insects in a meadow or frogs in a marsh, and a creepy, comical second vocal sung basso profundo and mixed very, very low. This inspired juxtaposition of solemnity and aural high jinks gives the track a surprising bite.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pigboat: “Cowboys, I Think” • myspace.com/pigboat

This is roadhouse roar and cocky bluster, an artful performance of rage built around a riff that grabs you by your cotton jersey and shoves you around. Soon it’s like you’re speeding across a lake, feeling the nose of the motorboat lift in a rush of brutishness and grace — Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! Though the song evokes the sound and feel — maybe even the smell — of lawlessness, the trio stays in control, letting the haywire go only so far. You can hear every instrument clearly, and there’s an underlying spirit of fun that makes you happy to have ROCK in your life. This rough mix (produced by Wally Wenzel, late of The Horror) may be your only opportunity to hear the quintessential moment of “Cowboys, I Think”: Mark Belanger asking, “Can you kill the dummy track?”

 

Chico Valentine: “Northern Woods” • myspace.com/chicovalentine

This funky, polyrhythmic instrumental starts out relatively spare and slinky, but soon gathers complexity and nuance as it rolls forth on a four-note riff in the key of D. There’s a pleasing contrast between the clear, ringing sound of metal percussion (cymbal, tambourine, bells) and the slightly toasted quality of sounds in the middle and lower registers. These include a cloudy piano and a guitar part whose initial self-restraint blooms to become a disquieting, talky swagger that may bring to mind a certain (older, non-blonde) Beck. The furtive intensity of the droning D really gets under your skin after a few minutes. It’s as if you realize that though your hips won’t stop moving, you’re surrounded by some kind of mossy menace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Matthew Erickson: “Explosions in the Sky” • myspace.com/matthewericksonmusic

Matthew Erickson has given this seductive song the feel of a damaged Super-8 home movie. The first sounds (grave string synthesizer and acoustic guitar) give way to a group of children calling out in momentary ecstasy. The song flows forth with twin tones of unease and sweetness until the arrival, at 0:48, of an unapologetically emotional baritone. It sounds as if Erickson is singing into a jar or a large metal pan. The friction between this arresting vocal and the swelling, poetic beauty of the strings is keenly compelling. The entrance of drums and a commanding organ at 1:40 feels both surprising and inevitable – underscoring the sense of time hurtling forward – and you’re swept along on a magnificent, sad wave, now hearing the sounds of distant cheering and applause. As with some of Robert Pollard’s compositions, you may be unsettled by the lack of conventional cues to the song’s structure, and you may think, This is a fragment; it’s unfinished. But really, could you make it any better?
David Pence is the host of Radio Junk Drawer, heard Wednesdays from 3 p.m.-5 p.m. on community radio station WMPG (90.9 and 104.1 FM; wmpg.org).