Steve Reynolds Program - Else
Blackjack!
Song number twenty-one. Now I’m thinking of when I lost way too much at a blackjack table in Vegas. Damn you, house advantage!
It’s snowing outside my window as I write this. I didn’t think I’d be able to write that this year, but here it is. Tonight, I’m going to cozy up on a couch and try to tackle the prose of Henry James, that obtuse bastard. Maybe the stillness of a blanket of snow will put me in the frame of mind to do this.
I have not much to report on. News is a bummer. Local, state, national and international. Makes me think if we found life on Venus, the discovered organisms would be in the middle of a painful war.
No one commented on my phrase “so I osmosed freakness through proximity” two newsletters ago. I’m going to set a Google Alert for that phrase because I’m sure people are going to be using it in their future award-winning novels.
Sorry, I’m distracted by the snow and need to wrap up so I make it home safely. You be safe too.
Song #21
Else
by Built To Spill
Built To Spill’s trajectory from the odd alternative cutesy band of their debut album to sprawling 70’s rock style guitar workouts in their heyday to the pastiche of psychedelic and eclectic styles bouncing against each other now does not resemble the journey of other bands. The unique sounds and the strangely familiar haze around their songs set them apart though you can hear their influence on bands bigger than them (Death Cab For Cutie’s Ben Gibbard’s vocals, Modest Mouse’s melodies).
Their only constant is Doug Martsch, the songwriter, lead guitarist and singer. His voice reminds me of Kermit The Frog—nasal, earnest, a little reedy. It contrasts with the sprawling instrumentations and ponderous lyrics of their two biggest albums, Perfect From Now On and Keep It Like A Secret. I love the juxtaposition. I’m sure a record exec would have suggested a Chris Cornell in the day to make it more appealing, but Doug’s sincere whine keeps it from being shirtless rock.
So Built To Spill has straddled different markets in its days as a band. It’s been too navel-gazing to play alongside Foo Fighters or Third Eye Blind (a very literal name imo), too loose and exploring for radio. Still, they are loved by their diehard fanbase, especially for their live shows. In fact, they may be the best sounding live band I’ve seen. (I was fortunate to be at the Irving Plaza show they recorded and released as Live in 2000). The most impressive part is how Doug marches on. Finding new bandmates to play with, changing styles, following his muse. Built To Spill’s last album is great, the best in 16 years.
For a band known for some humor (“You Were Right’” hilariously cites a dozen classic rock song lyrics, they’ll actually play Freebird when inevitably some unoriginal smartass yells it at a show), the lyrics often approach the serious: the simmering unspoken tension of a marriage (“I Would Hurt A Fly”), the inutility of lies (“Kicked It In The Sun”), the immeasurability of human nature (“The Plan”) show a writer making sense of the world, both seen and unseen.
“Else” is a perfect example of that. The lyrics address that pronoun of the 90’s, “you.” After the self-indulgence of the 70’s, it seems substituting out the I’s and we’s made these subjects more palatable then. First, though, he does sing “Finally I don’t mind/Worthless tries at finding at something else.” Ah, the existentialist breakthrough! The meaning is already here! The sort-of chorus “Your body breaks, your needs consume you forever/And with this lies the need to be here together” implicitly laments how the constant, urgent need to survive paradoxically distracts us from the “else” but at the same time creates community and cooperation.
For me, the Else is the music itself, being created by a group. And for a band who has made beautiful noise, this could be the most gorgeous four minutes and nine seconds they’ve recorded. The simple bassline played high up the neck, the insistent and even up-down strumming of simple chords and a lead reverb-heavy slide guitar that’s just purtier than a field of bluebonnets in bloom. It pleases and makes me believe Doug Martsch has found something else: a music that crosses time and crowds.
Addenda
This week’s Song I’m Mad I Forgot To Put On The List is “Wells Fargo Wagon” from The Music Man. I’ve been singing “We’re going to get an Apple that’s yaller” to its melody all day in anticipation of getting a new(ish) computer at the shop.