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(Elefant, 2000)Chocolate vinyl, vanilla music. Tee hee! But seriously, people, I never thought that the Ladybug Transistor quite lived up to their buddies (and bandmates) the Essex Green when it came to crafting, uh, charming pastoral chamber-pop. While they arguably might’ve had more breadth (as demonstrated by the convincing spaghetti-isms of “Cienfuegos”), they just didn’t have the extra songwriting oomph to push themselves beyond being – despite the horns and baritone vox – at best a junior-varsity Plush, let alone ever manage to create something as perfect as the EG’s “Fabulous Day.” All of which unfairly comes off as a slap, cuz this music is undeniably fine and, yes, quite nice… I’m just saying it’s not going to end up on a desert island with me anytime soon. And, for the record, “Brighton Bound” is on Argyle Heir, while “Cienfuegos” is on The Albemarle Sound, which makes this heavy-wax import single superfluous in the extreme. Still, as indicated, you might as well give the songs a listen over the internet the next time you have a moment or three; stuff ain’t bad.
(Hidden Agenda, 1997)Again: the Gerbils. Again: not bad. “Glue” is a nasal, wussyboy take on mid-period Brian Jonestown Massacre (especially in those psychedelic guitars), while “Is She Fiona” matches the quality blown-out fuzzpop of the early Olivia Tremor Control 7”s. Slower tempos and trippier moods seem to suit the Gerbils better than breakneck boppery, leading to what’s definitely a stronger record than the “Grin” disc, and it’s currently available for less than a buck from Parasol. Still, both releases are included in full on the subsequent Are You Sleepy album, diminishing (eliminating?) the need for ownership of either single. Sorry, hoss.
(Spare Me, 1996)After a poorly-planned and semi-disastrous (well, not for me; I wasn’t the one who got suckerpunched in the face) trip to Boston for a concert, it’s swell to return home and find New York City, which was balmy on Friday, in the middle of having a foot of snow dumped atop it. Tomorrow’s commute will be ugly, but luckily I was completely underdressed while visiting the nippy north, and I’m hoping that the cold I caught will soon be my ticket to sick-day paradise. Not only do I have stacks of DVDs and books that need my time, I should, primarily, be doing a better job of making my way through all the bizarre Richard Harris LPs that have been clogging my mailbox – a daunting task that requires at least a full day. Wrapping one’s head around the Gerbils, however, requires far less brainpower than the dissection of those brain-melting Harris epics, so tonight I’ll turn my busride-deadened attention to this 7” before worrying about tomorrow’s work.
The Gerbils slot easily into the larger Elephant 6 universe, cranking out the charged fuzzpop that the Apples in Stereo and Elf Power were also playing at the time; there are definitely no musical surprises here for anyone who’s heard any early E6 records. Nothing so wrong with that, of course, but unfortunately, “Grin” features an annoying carnival-barker backing vocal that does its best to ruin what would otherwise be some above-average, woozy, bedroom twee: you know that wacky vocal track that echoes Ringo in the final verse of “Yellow Submarine”? Imagine that, much louder, running through the entire song, and you’ve got a good idea of what derails “Grin.” On the other side, the energetic “Crayon Box” begs for an Elf Power comparison, though it does gain distinction for including the rather unfathomable line, “You know that Portastatic is still my favorite band.” Really?! Hear it and believe it. The guy bold enough to give voice to such an admission, Scott Spillane, also played horns for Olivia Tremor Control and Neutral Milk Hotel over the years, and while those bands were both miles ahead of the Gerbils in terms of ambition and execution, Spillane’s group – on the two singles I own, at least – was a charmingly modest, below-the-radar pop project that oughta make genre freaks pretty happy. Consider ’em the, I dunno, light-hitting, slick-fielding utility man on the Elephant 6 baseball team… never flashy, sometimes frustrating, but generally solid.
(Uncomfortable Chair Co., 1997)Waitin’, waitin’, waitin’ for my Papa John’s pizza to arrive. Doodly doodly doo, I’m just waitin’ for that pizza to make it to my mouth. Hum. Hum. Hum da dum hum. (END OF SONG.) Yes, life sure is good when you’re waiting for some tasty pizza and singing a song to yourself about it. Reckon those PRICKS in Fablefactory are just as whimsical as I, for here they are with a concept record about the life and death of wing’d things spread over a MERE 7”!! The music’s the kind of wobbly, 4-track-y, fuzz-loaded psychpop that the Elephant 6ers built their reps on, with – hang on, pizza’s here.Boy. I don’t know exactly who the individual was who came up with the idea of offering miniature tubs of butter for customers to POUR ONTO THEIR PIZZA, but that person deserves the Congressional Medal of Honor. None more tasty. None. Thank you, Papa John, wherever you are. Now I am fat.But as I was saying: the music’s about what you’d expect from the E6 camp in the ’90s, though the lyrics veer a little too far into the cutesy lane for me to handle. Like: “You make me feel like an idiot, bumble bee / A woodywoody pecker picking pickled peppers over me.” Gnash, o teeth! Grind, too! Side two is stonger overall, with its dark melodicism and stronger lyrics, sounding much like the excellent records Elf Power was releasing at the time, and is perhaps good enough to nudge the record just over the E6 par line. Not a bad effort at all. I’d maybe sell/trade my fifth-born for a copy of this??
(Happy Happy Birthday To Me, 2000)
Four gentle, folksy pop nuggets that, home-recorded as they are, take a more sparse instrumental approach than any of the Essex Green’s full-lengths. And while none of the music on here is as necessary as what’s on the first EP and LP, a rougher version of the group’s chamber folk still makes for a pleasant late-night listen. The band, in its early days, was interesting in a mid-60s Kinks style for writing pretty guy- and gal-sung songs about mundane subjects – cats, golf, the weather – and these lyrics are suitably rootsy and down to earth (the in-defense-of-squares Dylan parody “My Guitar’s Too Cool For Me” is a fine joke). The band later reissued most of this single on an obscure, self-released version of its debut EP, but mysteriously left off both “Yesterday & Today” and the radio static that linked each track.
(Arena Rock, 1999)This 7” comes tucked inside the Dream in Sound LP, and THERE IT CAN STAY for all I care. Cuz it’s a dog! WOOF! “Interlude #87,” which also appears unlisted at the end of the CD, is loopy sound collage wankery of the OTC variety, while hot guitar makes the sloppy psych jam “Wrinkles” at least slightly interesting. But interesting enough to justify the man-sized eBay prices for this rare thingamajig? No sir, I cannot in good conscience say that that is the case. So keep on walkin’, smart shopper.
(Kindercore, 1996)Elf Power is generally less given to whimsy than other Elephant 6 bands, and over the years they’ve developed into the most “professional,” straight-sounding rock group of the bunch. This early single – their first – is a nice reminder of rawer days, when Rieger and pals were turning out bedroom psychedelia that ranged from folksy (“The Winter Hawk”) to droning (“Heroes and Insects”) to acid-damaged (“Exalted Exit Wound”). The savvy arrangements, incorporating violin, flute, accordion, and Moog, give the record an expansive sound that, overall, isn’t too far from what the similarly-ambitious (though less sober) Olivia Tremor Control was doing on its first few 7”s. The streamlined Elf Power of later years is a fine thing, but these songs have a baby’s-first-steps charm that has since been lost.
(Happy Happy Birthday To Me, 2000)Black Swan Network had previously existed as a side vehicle for the Olivia Tremor Control to fully indulge its avant-garde leanings (collages, field recordings, drones), but here there’s a song-based approach that sticks closer to the parent group’s sound than did past BSN releases. Interestingly, the listed lineup is all of the Olivia Tremor Control minus Bill Doss, which is essentially what would become the Circulatory System by the following year – so really this EP is, in terms of personnel and musical ideas, a bridge between the OTC and the Circulatory System. Without input from the sunny Doss, it’s darker and druggier than Dusk at Cubist Castle or Black Foliage, while still utilizing the fragmented, cut-and-paste pop style heard on those discs. This is a tentative step towards the first Circulatory album; the basic elements are all in place (even lyrically), there just isn’t the dense, hyper-layered production yet. “Grains and Sauces” is a suitably psychedelic opener, with tape loops, tinkling xylophone, and that familiar clarinet over a groovy drumbeat. The rest of the record is crawling, clattering dream-music that keeps picking up and falling apart, Will Hart’s breathy vox swooping in from time to time to anchor a song. It’s an intriguing listen, and quite jam-packed for a 45; obscure as all heck, but worth finding if you can. Supposedly exists with a black cover as well.
(Contact, 1999)Admission! I never liked Bablicon. Watched them in 2000 opening for Olivia Tremor Control and was bored silly by their Chicago post-skronk. Bought a copy of their debut LP and saw it promptly lost in the mail (a big OUCH in poverty-stricken undergrad days). Grabbed Oranged Tapered Moon and was turned off by the sub-Zappa jazz-rock wanksplorations. So surprise surprise, this single (which sounds good at both 45 and 33!) is half decent; A’s like crazy, drunken circus music over cheap beatz; hypno seasickness plus a few tripped-out sitar breaks. Catchy uneasiness the whole way through, and then a brief marching-band outro to seal the deal. Nice! The B-side? Who cares?? Izza lousy mess with an almost-worth-it elec-piano-driven conclusion. Whatever. Focus on the A’s early-Tortoise-isms and be happy. My many hyphens: are they OK??
(Earworm, 2000)
Thanksgiving is over, but there’s another TURKEY in the house: this single! Ha! Ha! Oh, ha ha ha! It’s almost certain that I am the first person to ever make such a joke, so let’s celebrate my genius and wit with some grog! I will top off your stein. WHEW! Let me wipe the tears of mirth from my eyes before we continue.
OK.
There’s ample guitarfuzz here that hearkens back to the early days of the Apples, but the empty spaces in the A-side’s midtempo ode to laziness make it feel half-assed and unfinished. Lyrics were never the band’s strong point, and emphasizing the (similarly weak) vocals, as Apples in Stereo increasingly did, never did these folks any favors. “Behind the Waterfall,” while frustratingly brief, is definitely the better of the two sides, featuring a gentle, tripped-out verse with a ripping distorto-chorus. This would have fit especially well on Her Wallpaper Reverie, the group’s concept/psych high-point, and it’s a shame that it was booted to the B-side of a follow-up single.Earworm did its typically careful job with the quality control here (thick colored vinyl, attractive fold-out sleeve), but given that both songs soon popped up on the domestic “Look Away” EP and the bargain-bin “The Bird That You Can’t See” single, there’s absolutely no need to pay high import prices for this release. Nor was there any pressing need to do so in 2000, when it first came out. And yet I did. Which is why I was (and remain) a total sucker and a record label’s best friend.
(SpinART/Elephant 6/Sire, 1998)
“Man You Gotta Get Up” (b/w “The Golden Flower”) isn’t really a single; it was included as a bonus 45 in the vinyl pressing of the Apples in Stereo’s Tone Soul Evolution album. Generous. But we can still take a moment to pan the thing, because this is a pretty flaccid slab o’ wax. Plopped front-and-center, Schneider’s thin, nasal voice simply isn’t strong enough or compelling enough to carry these songs, and there isn’t the punchy, reckless pop energy of the earliest singles. Shiny-sounding and crafted, it’s almost like a – dare I say it – psychedelecized Weezer, fer cryin’ out loud. The dirty guitar that snarls in the choruses of “Man You Gotta Get Up” is encouraging, but neither tune really offers much of interest beyond the occasional instrumental trick. Honestly, if these mediocrities truly had to be released, a bonus single was the right outlet and should set the proper expectations for the listener. Instead of hunting this disc down, just sit around and wait for the inevitable rarities comp.
Trivia fun! Tone Soul Evolution was the only Elephant 6 record to be released under the auspices of a major label. The next time you’re at a party, pull THAT one outta your cap and you'll be the champion of conversation, newly nicknamed Mr. Popular. I promise.
(Bus Stop, 1994)
Want to hear about something gross that happened this very afternoon? There I was, drinking my iced coffee at the local iced-coffeatorium, reading about celebrity tax evaders in New York City (John Cale, how could you?!), when I happened to glance down into my cup after a final, satisfied slurp. A sickening sight was to greet my eye: a BUG, a little black beetle of some sort, was resting there among the ice. “Gah!” I choked, and then noticed a second bug, this one a fat, inch-long, maggoty looking thing, sitting nearby. After spitting into a few napkins and the trash can, I took the evidence up to the counter and politely suggested the staff consider cleaning out the ice chest. The girl was suitably apologetic, and pulled five dollars in hush-money from the register. So the moral of the story is: drink bugs, get five bucks.
You know what would be similarly gross? Finding a worm in an apple that you were munchin’ on.
Hey, speaking of apples, I’m listening to a single by the APPLES in Stereo as I type this! Weird! What a great coincidence! What an ideal and totally unplanned segue! No, I’m not chuckling nervously; why do you ask? Let’s just talk about the record.
“Hypnotic Suggestion” is cleaner than the first single, but still has that trebly, grungy four-track sound. And while the lo-fi aesthetic remains in place, the songwriting is obviously increasing in complexity, with more ambitious vocal arrangements – the swooping and sighing backing vox on “Touch the Water” are especially satisfying – that hint at the Pet Sounds worship soon to blossom in the studio. All four songs are warm, bouncy guitar-pop, Robert Schneider & co at their simple best: rocking, catchy, fuzzy. A near-perfect 7”, and a perfect example of why Apples in Stereo was ever worth caring about. The Science Faire album gathers up all of these early singles and loose ends, and remains a good place to sink a few dollars.
(Elephant 6, 1993)
Ooh, a historically significant one: “Tidal Wave” is both the first Apples record (before “in Stereo” was tacked onto the name) and the first real-deal Elephant 6 Recording Company release. Listening to the disc over a decade later, it’s easy to hear the beginnings of the various branches of the E6 family in these songs – the lo-fi wackiness; the slightly-askew, Nuggets-y pop sensibilities; the oddball lyrical concerns; the homemade psychedelia… it’s all here in noisy, embryonic form. (The E6 band that followed most closely in this record’s footsteps was often the underrated Minders, though with far cleaner production.) Robert Schneider became a real studio trickster within a few years – and late-period Apples in Stereo albums suffocate under their overthunked-ness – so it’s fun to hear him just hit the “record” button on this one and let the band bash through these six ragged pieces of psych-tinged power-pop. Oh, and Apples do record geeks proud with a 16-page art/lyrics booklet and inserts up the wazoo: a poster, a sticker, a customer-satisfaction survey (!).
(Elefant, 2000)
