Canon Fodder #4: Seek Sound Shelter
Lungfish - Rainbows From Atoms
I first heard Lungfish with their song “Friend To Friend In The Endtime” on the Dischord 20th Anniversary Box (which itself turns 20 this year, jfc). Hipper friends suggested that every Lungfish song sounds like that lurching doozy, but was still awesome. I took way too long to test the theory, but it’s at least true in regards to their early albums. The rhythm section marches through the mud, the guitar queasily snakes around them as Daniel Higgs sing-shouts accusations and pointed two-note narratives. Repeat, repeat, rigidly, righteously repeat. They're basically the missing link between Fugazi (Ian MacKaye producing and releasing Lungfish albums) and Les Savy Fav, who added a lot of whimsy and dramatic rhythm shifts but aped Lungfish’s basic vibe right down to the bald burly beardo at the mic. If you know those guys well, but not these guys - you're welcome!
The album I most want to find is their second, Talking Songs For Walking, but it costs a pretty penny on vinyl, and their gestative debut is frustratingly tacked onto the CD. This third album from 1993 is great, though. As with a lot of American post-hardcore/post-punk, it all comes down to whether you identify with the person hectoring or feel like you’re the one getting hectored at. Me, I’m a bald burly beardo with big ideas about the way things are. And this is my shiiiiit.
Giant Sand - Center Of The Universe
Giant Sand is the kind of prolific indie combo I got obsessive about in the ‘90s - every album was good for a couple tracks - only to decide all those tracks fit on a CD-R in the ‘00s. No longer a fan of 80-minute mixes, I’ve started reinvestigating Tuscon’s finest bastards of Neil Young, and this platter is even crunchier fun than I remembered. I regret not making the title track my college radio theme song, as I certainly played the casually cosmic dirge enough (the way the ghostly background vocals play off the noise, my god). The reissue liners suggest it’s bandleader Howe Gelb’s personal favorite of their albums, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it is at least an apex of their offhand country-rawk majesty, capturing a rollicking good time with the future Calexico behind him & pals from the Paisley Underground playing organ and cheering along. I want to dig deeper with adult ears before committing to that, though.
John Prine - German Afternoons
My seventh, eighth or tenth favorite John Prine album, but I hope to own at least eleven or twelve before I’m done. Before this 1986 release came 1984’s Aimless Love, an atypically solemn portrait of perseverance and the first album for his own label. He wouldn’t release another until his Grammy-winning “comeback” The Missing Years in 1991. German Afternoons feels a little commonplace in comparison, More Tragicomic Songs About Lovers And Layabouts. But you’ve got gold like “Speed Of The Sound Of Loneliness,” covered by everyone from Dave Matthews to Evan Dando, “Linda Goes To Mars” (a song about watching your wife dream she’s an angel from Montgomery) and “I Just Want To Dance With You,” which George Strait made a country #1 just when cancer gave Prine some serious medical bills. The tone here is pretty country for Prine in general, climaxing with a fiddle-heavy redux of “Paradise” from his debut. Maybe German Afternoons isn’t so commonplace after all.
(Side note: both the Lungfish and Prine LPs I got were “colored vinyl” editions, respectively looking like a piss bottle and tie-dye. I have to wonder if this is actually intended as collector bait or if indie labels can get the leftover materials used for Target exclusives cheap or something. Cuz these colors aren’t logical or pretty).
Fugazi - End Hits
I now have every Fugazi album I want, which is all of them except 1995’s Red Medicine. Oh, I get why that album was important to their evolution, but aside from the opening blitz, the haunting closer and the ironic rocker about hating the sound of guitars, I just hear a band taking a collective dump, adding dub effects and calling it art. Having successfully scared away the moshers and mastered the mixing board, this 1998 follow-up was low-key but action-packed, setting the stage for the grand finale of The Argument. Apparently, passing that massive stool left them loose, limber & unafraid of their virtues - even the Joe Lally feature has pep. I would have cut an experiment like “Floating Boy” or “Pink Frosty” - no reason for this album to creep over 45 minutes, guys (hence me purchasing it on CD!) - but this is the mature declaration of self that allowed them to confidently add all the bells & whistles that made a classic out of the next one.
(Lungfish’s Rainbows From Atoms is currently ranked number 248 on My Favorite Albums Of All Time list, between Flaming Lips’ Hit To Death In The Future Head and New Pornographers’ Whiteout Conditions. The latest, only slightly outdated posting of the Top 300 is here. I'm telling you this because I've found people are more inclined to discuss and share reviews if there's a quantitative element at the top or bottom they can easily debate. Prove me right!)