They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: BEACHWOOD SPARKS
Once We Were Trees // Sub Pop, 2001
Beachwood Sparks couldn’t walk a block without hearing some kind of Gram Parsons comparison, and rightfully so. The Los Angeles band’s mellow-gold appropriation of California country/rock sometimes felt like the equivalent of trying on a Western shirt and fringe vest at a Melrose Avenue vintage shop. But sophomore effort Once We Were Trees (recorded at the home of J Mascis, who played guitar on two songs) pushed the signature sound into psychedelic places where Parsons had never been. Many of the album’s tracks began nice and steady with honky-tonk fingerpicking and woozy pedal steel but ended in a miasma of organ drone and haunting harmony vocals. A little too weird for those expecting more cookie-cutter cowboy songs, Trees was met with as much puzzlement as praise.
Catching Up: Beachwood Sparks was last heard from via 2002’s Make The Cowboy Robots Cry EP, and its members have since moved on to other projects. Bassist Brent Rademaker formed Frausdots and joined brother Darren in the Tyde. Guitarist Chris Gunst plays in Mystic Chords Of Memory. Guitarist Dave Scher and drummer Jimi Hey formed the short-lived All Night Radio. Drummer Aaron Sperske fronts As Is. Beachwood Sparks reunited in 2008 to play Sub Pop’s 20th anniversary party.
“The Sun Surrounds Me”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: MAZZY STAR
So Tonight That I Might See // Capitol, 1993
If Intro To Psychedelia wasn’t included in your high-school curriculum, Mazzy Star’s second album was there to educate you. Ex-Opal maestro David Roback perfected his brand of glacial, hypnotic folk with Hope Sandoval as his icy chanteuse. Pretty radio hit “Fade Into You” was a seductive gateway drug that pointed back toward So Tonight’s influences: the Doors, Bert Jansch and the Jesus And Mary Chain. Sandoval’s opiated Patsy Cline moans were a soft take on alt-rock’s alienated weirdness that her contemporaries weren’t prepared to offer. The anti-social Roback and Sandoval may have sounded like they wanted to disappear, but the ghostly echo they created still haunts.
Catching Up: Sandoval, who formed Hope Sandoval & The Warm Inventions and released 2001’s Bavarian Fruit Bread, has collaborated with Air, the Jesus And Mary Chain, Massive Attack, the Twilight Singers and others. Roback worked on Beth Orton’s 1999 album Central Reservation before moving to Norway. He wrote music for and appeared as himself in 2004 Nick Nolte/Maggie Cheung film Clean.
“Fade Into You”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: DUSTY TRAILS
Dusty Trails // Atlantic, 2000
If loving the defiantly ’60s-leaning, yé-yé art pop of Dusty Trails is wrong, then why be right? The one-off duo—Josephine Wiggs (Breeders) and Vivian Trimble (Luscious Jackson)—came on like an ultra-feminine version of Trimble’s previous side project, the Kostars (a similarly breezy, cinematic exercise produced by Wiggs). Dusty Trails wove gentle French and Brazilian pop styles into songs otherwise possessed of an entirely post-modern attitude. If “Est-Ce Que Tu” isn’t responsible for the conception of a thousand indie-nation babies by now, then the kids were either stone deaf or had surely lost all interest in matters of the flesh.
Catching Up: Surprisingly, very little has been heard from Wiggs or Trimble since this release. Wiggs joined the Breeders onstage in London for two 2005 reunion shows and is recording music for film and television. Trimble reportedly reunited with her Luscious Jackson bandmates to record an album of children’s songs.
“Order Coffee”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: THE DELTA 72
000 // Touch & Go, 2000
With the millennial dawn came this two-fisted war whoop from Philadelphia’s answer to the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion. Lurking within the Delta 72’s hard-chiseled Stones thump and sinewy R&B groove was a pop sensibility that could’ve made the band a mainstream radio contender. From steaming, maracas-and-ass-shaking opener “Are You Ready?” (a Jagger-iffic rocker featuring Motown girl-group backing vocals) to dub-drenched funkadelic closer “Sun The Secret Prince,” there’s not a follicle out of place on OOO, the Delta 72’s third LP. One rumor circulating at the time: An uncredited Elliott Smith played on the album’s acoustic coda.
Catching Up: Foreman moved to Miami, got clean and sober and tours in Cat Power’s Dirty Delta Blues Band. Check in with Foreman via his blog. Keyboardist Sarah Stolfa, one of the surliest waitresses at Center City dive bar McGlinchey’s, turned the job into high art: Her images of bar patrons won the New York Times Magazine’s photography contest in 2004. Drummer Jason Kourkounis went on to play in Hot Snakes, Burning Brides, Bardo Pond and the Night Marchers.
“I Feel Fine”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: SEAM
The Problem With Me // Touch And Go, 1993
The delicate, perfect spheres on its cover nicely paralleled the delicate, perfectly crafted songs on Seam’s second album. Monumentally sad yet overwhelmingly triumphant, The Problem With Me was birthed in the short shadow of singer/guitarist Sooyoung Park’s old band (Bitch Magnet) and a semi-famous ex-drummer (Superchunk’s Mac McCaughan), but its indie-rock blueprint—would Death Cab For Cutie’s most resonant moments exist without it?—proved far more important than past associations. Nine blissfully hypnotic songs circled Park’s sadness and anger, building up tension and releasing it in a crash of restrained guitars and half-shouted vocals.
Catching Up: With Park as its only constant, different lineups recorded a pair of follow-ups before Seam petered out in the late ’90s. (A few reunion shows leaned heavily on Problem’s best moments.) Park plays guitar in Ee, though he’s not the band’s songwriter.
“Bunch”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: WALKER KONG
There Goes The Sun // Magic Marker, 2001
It’d be a convenient lie to say that Walker Kong’s vintage pop was drowned out by the roaring rock breakthroughs of 2001 (the White Stripes, the Strokes, et al). Fact is, records like this are released with quiet confidence every year. What made the Minneapolis quintet’s proper debut so momentous, then, was the way it infused orchestral pop with an undeniable groove—something Belle And Sebastian didn’t discover until recently. An art-school conglomerate led by singer/songwriter Jeremy Ackerman, Walker Kong combines Beulah’s sunny trumpet reveries with the Go-Betweens’ jangly genius.
Catching Up: After a slowdown due to Ackerman and his wife, bassist/vocalist Alexandra, starting a family, Walker Kong returned in 2007 with third album Deliver Us From People.
“Pulitzer Prize”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
The straight-edge DIY warriors of Dischord tend to dominate most discussions about Washington, D.C.’s alt-rock community. But consider the pioneering spazz-pop legacy of Mark Robinson and Teenbeat, the label he founded in 1985 while an Arlington, Va., high-school student. Teenbeat was home to a variety of prominent indie groups such as Versus, Gastr Del Sol and Eggs, but its flagship act was Robinson’s band: Unrest (pictured). The trio developed quickly from scruffy homemade recordings that often teetered uneasily between punk, funk and spaghetti-Western pastiche to a highly influential form of minimalist guitar pop that came to define the pre-grunge era of college rock.
:: UNREST
Perfect Teeth // 4AD/Teenbeat, 1993
Unrest was one of the leading lights of the Amerindie scene throughout its all-too-brief career during the late ’80s and early ’90s. Perfect Teeth (its tongue-in-cheek liner notes jokingly listed Duran Duran’s Simon LeBon as producer) was as separate from Unrest’s early, bare-bones pop/punk as Fugazi was from Minor Threat. Simultaneously lush and spare, crafty and spontaneous, the album dropped gems such as “Make Out Club” and the melancholy “Soon It Is Going To Rain” like they were going out of style—which, once Robinson broke up Unrest later that year, was precisely the case. Catching Up: Robinson has remained connected to the underground since dissolving his band. He and Unrest bassist (and former Velocity Girl) Bridget Cross continued for a time as Air Miami before he went on to release a raft of albums under the names including Grenadine, Olympic Death Squad and Flin Flon. Drummer Phil Krauth has pursued a solo career, issuing a series of acoustic-based records on Teenbeat, the most recent of which was 2005’s Tight Fit. Cross is in Maybe It’s Reno, which released a self-titled LP on Teenbeat last year. Unrest reunited for a set at the label’s 20th anniversary shows in 2005.
“Make Out Club”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: SILKWORM
Firewater // Matador, 1996
Maybe it was the departure of guitarist/vocalist Joel Phelps. Or perhaps the remaining members of Silkworm—bassist/vocalist Tim Midgett, guitarist/vocalist Andy Cohen and drummer Michael Dahlquist—were just downbeat dudes who liked to get loaded. Whatever the reason, these guys didn’t have songs, they had problems. The group’s fourth LP was an unpleasant bender well worth the hangover. From its opening lines (“No more simple tunes/No more easy poon/It takes so many millions to get laid”), Firewater spilled a litany of poetic, booze-drenched tales of woe. Saying the album was solely about dipsomania and its associated despair sells it short, though. Fear, betrayal, forgiveness and the bonds of friendship received equal play in these tough, spare numbers (smoking-hot, occasionally dissonant guitar leads abound); it was testimony with which both teetotalers and barflies could identify.
Catching up: In 2005, a suicidal woman slammed her car into the vehicle Dahlquist and two friends were in at a Skokie, Ill., stoplight. She lived; they did not. A final Silkworm EP, Chokes, came out in 2006. Midgett and Cohen play in Bottomless Pit. The duo moved the crowd at Touch And Go Records’ 25th-anniversary festival three years ago with a touching rendition of Silkworm’s “LR72”: “Let me drink and weep/And see that a friendship was here.”
“Tarnished Angel”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: DUSTER
Stratosphere // Up, 1998
There was no shortage of psychedelic listening options for the late-’90s space cadet; you simply had to navigate the substrata of drone-friendly bands such as Spiritualized, Flying Saucer Attack and Bardo Pond. San Jose, Calif.’s Duster flew closer to Earth, offering more structured guitar-rock compositions and the kind of muffled-yet-melodic vocals that hadn’t been heard since the (original) shoegaze era. For debut album Stratosphere, the songwriting duo of Clay Parton and Dove Amber recruited drummer Jason Albertini (an original member of Queens Of The Stone Age) and created a sound akin to Yo La Tengo playing beneath a heavy winter blanket. For an exploration of the pop side of the space-rock moon, Stratosphere is one place to start.
Catching Up: Duster managed one more album, 2000’s Contemporary Movement. Albertini and Amber formed the trippy Helvetia, while Parton makes four-track psych/pop as Eiafuawn.
“Reed To Hillsborough”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: CARDINAL
Cardinal // Flydaddy, 1994
Cardinal—the only full-length from Australian singer/songwriter Richard Davies and Portland, Ore., multi-instrumentalist/ arranger Eric Matthews—generated at least one review anointing it a “religious experience.” That’s a bit much, but credit Cardinal‘s 30-minute album with advancing the symphonic-pop movement of the mid-’90s that included Belle And Sebastian and Rufus Wainwright. Davies’ twee-time tales were decorated with various ornate finishes (horns, strings, layered harmonies), while Matthews’ lone vocal contribution (the hypnotic “Dream Figure”) emerged as the album’s signature track. Alas, ego clashes split the duo almost instantaneously, with the album eventually passing out of print until the Empyrean label reissued it in 2005 with demos, outtakes and a killer cover of Love’s “Willow Willow.”
Catching Up: Davies released three solo albums (including 1998’s excellent Telegraph); he has an album due in June with Robert Pollard. Matthews has issued six solo LPs, including last year’s The Imagination Stage. The two got back together last year to record a second Cardinal album, but things didn’t quite work out; read about it here.
“Silver Machines”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: YOU AM I
Hourly, Daily // Warner Bros., 1997
Bigger than Oasis in its native Australia—three consecutive albums debuted at number one on the charts Down Under—You Am I was received in the States with little fanfare and spat out like vegemite. It wasn’t for a lack of effort on the part of the Sydney trio; touring the U.S. with Soundgarden and playing Lollapalooza’s side stage in 1996, lanky frontman Tim Rogers led his manic troupe with well-executed guitar windmills and bitingly funny stage patter. But it just wasn’t their time—or place. In the same way that Ray Davies miniaturized middle-class Britain, Rogers spoke Australian: Hourly, Daily was a scoundrel’s gallery of songs involving a milk-truck driver on Kinteil Road, the Circular Quay, Prince of Wales tea and a pack of darts. You Am I’s mode of delivery—mod rock and power pop in the vein of the Who, the Pretty Things, the Small Faces and the Knack—wasn’t well-understood, either. Maybe the ringing Rickenbackers and occasional skiffle rhythm sounded too traditional for the OK Computer/Cornershop era, but Hourly, Daily stands as the finest, most cohesive batch of pop-life vignettes from the old, normal Australia.
Catching Up: You Am I’s output has become increasingly uninspired since, including 2007′s lackluster Convicts and 2008′s Dilettantes.
“Soldiers”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: THE SPINANES
Strand // Sub Pop, 1996
Boy meets girl. Boy and girl do not fall in love. Instead, boy and girl start a band. The duo of drummer Scott Plouf and singer/guitarist Rebecca Gates carved out a sweetly rocking niche for themselves, hovering somewhere between the indie diddlers and grunge dudes. With sophomore album Strand, the Spinanes transcended their ragged Northwest-indie roots and gave Gates’ smart songwriting a dreamy, atmospheric sheen. (Elliott Smith contributed backup vocals to two tracks.) And bravo to Gates and Plouf for bypassing the tiresome romantic angst and innuendo of certain other co-ed rock duos by keeping things platonic.
Catching Up: After Strand, Plouf joined Built To Spill. Gates moved to Chicago and continued flying solo under the Spinanes moniker, releasing 1998’s Arches And Aisles. She now lives in Rhode Island. Gates issued the Ruby Series EP in 2001 and contributed vocals to the upcoming Decemberists album The Hazards Of Love.
“Madding”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: PAPAS FRITAS
Buildings And Grounds // Minty Fresh, 2000
With the release of its third album, Papas Fritas found a special niche in the indie-rock mini-universe. The Boston trio’s self-titled 1995 debut showed promise and appealed to wordplay fans (Pop Has Freed Us), and 1997’s Helioself had a bigger, chirpier sound—maybe too big. With Buildings And Grounds, the band lofted it over Fenway Park’s Green Monster and rounded the bases. Guitarist Tony Goddess must’ve realized he had a rare gift: He was the reincarnation of breathy Zombies vocalist Colin Blunstone, and an appropriate set of slowed-down, minor-key tunes was a perfect fit. Papas Fritas also took the training wheels off drummer Shivika Asthana, and her alternate lead vocals made her uncomplicated, vibrato-less voice appear to be the missing link between Astrud Gilberto and Juana Molina.
Catching Up: Goddess remains in Boston, where he works as a producer and plays in power-pop outfit the Rudds. Asthana and bassist Keith Gendel have pursued careers outside of music.
“People Say”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: CAUSTIC RESIN
The Medicine Is All Gone // Alias, 1998
Was it irony? At a time when classic rock was definitely not hip, Boise, Idaho’s Caustic Resin came out swinging the hammer of the freedom-rock gods with the strength and resolve of seven Melvins. Led by former Built To Spill member (and Charles Manson look-alike) Brett Netson, Caustic Resin peaked with third album The Medicine Is All Gone, a soundtrack for your next heroin withdrawal. From ringing power-riff opener “Cable” to a cover of Argent’s “Hold Your Head Up,” Medicine reeks of damaged lives and desperate situations. Was all this drama real? MAGNET reached Netson by phone for a 1998 interview at a drug-abuse treatment facility.
Catching Up: Caustic Resin’s last album came out in 2003. (Ironically, it bore the title Keep On Truckin’.) Netson has toured as a member of Built To Spill and Mark Lanegan’s band and formed Reversion, a psych-noir duo with classically trained marimba player Erin Jorgensen.
“Cable”
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: BEULAH
When Your Heartstrings Break // Sugar Free, 1999
Beulah never quite broke free from the shadows of the Elephant 6 collective, that loose aggregate of pop alchemists fond of Beach Boys harmonies, Beatlesque psychedelia and lo-fi orchestration. An E6 satellite band, Beulah hailed from San Francisco, and its bright melodies often got tagged as West Coast pop, although the group was no more or less sunny than most of its E6 compadres. When Your Heartstrings Break struck a perfect balance of bubbly hooks, often anchored by a parade-band trumpet and inventive textures (Beulah’s core quintet drafted 18 additional players for strings, horns, accordion and tabla), and its quirky titles (“Emma Blowgun’s Last Stand,” “If We Can Land A Man On The Moon, Surely I Can Win Your Heart”) belied frontman Miles Kurosky’s bittersweet, lovelorn lyrics. Aside from Neutral Milk Hotel’s In The Aeroplane Over The Sea, When Your Heartstrings Break may be the best E6 album.
Catching Up: Beulah went on to record two decreasingly exuberant albums: 2001’s The Coast Is Never Clear and 2003’s Yoko, the latter of which foreshadowed the group’s decision to call it quits after a final tour (documented on 2005’s A Good Band Is Easy To Kill DVD). Kurosky has been working on a solo album featuring former Beulah members and more than a dozen Bay Area jazz musicians, though no release date is set.
“Emma Blowgun’s Last Stand”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: THE WEBB BROTHERS
Maroon Mews // 5/Atlantic, 2000
Anyone familiar with the slightly eerie, almost symphonic late-’60s pop smashes written by Jimmy Webb (“Wichita Lineman,” “MacArthur Park”) would’ve expected nothing less than stardom for his talented sons, Christiaan and Justin, 30 years later. For a while, the Chicago-based brother act looked like it might pull it off. Combining production bits lifted from Abbey Road-era Beatles and the smart vocal flourishes of early Todd Rundgren with a dusting of mid-period Pink Floyd, the duo also kept an ear cocked to indie-rock landmarks such as Neutral Milk Hotel’s In The Aeroplane Over The Sea and Liz Phair’s Exile In Guyville. The Webb Brothers released Beyond The Biosphere, a right-cross to the heart, in 1998, then went for a knockout left-hook to the chin with the Stephen Street-produced Maroon. If they could’ve sold more records, there might have been another championship belt in the family trophy case.
Catching Up: The Webb Brothers are currently in Los Angeles, where for the past several years they’ve been working on The God Helmet, an animated concept album.
“Summer People”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: BOWERY ELECTRIC
Beat // Kranky, 1996
Though U.K. critic Simon Reynolds pointed to New York City duo Bowery Electric as a prime example of American post-rock back in ’95, the long view is somewhat skewed. Bowery principals Martha Schwendener and Lawrence Chandler never noodled around with the jazz or dub accents that later defined post-rock paragons such as Tortoise and the Sea And Cake. Bowery Electric wrote long, lingering compositions with murky bass, keyboards and vocals; the beats resembled a metronome heard through a thick fog. The haunting ambience of Beat fit somewhat with the then-popular Massive Attack and Portishead, but the album’s subsonic drone made it more of a minimal mood piece than a collection of songs. Still, when the beat is isolated to its murmuring bass vibrations on “Without Stopping,” it’s as astonishing a trick as anything DJ Shadow ever pulled.
Catching Up: Chandler is a composer/visual artist; Schwendener is an art critic.
“Beat”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: BRAINIAC
Hissing Prigs In Static Couture // Touch And Go, 1996
Indie-rock bands in the mid-’90s did not look like Brainiac. While most groups settled for Converse and flannels, Brainiac preferred to shop in the ladies’ section of thrift stores; where most frontmen tried to out-slack Stephen Malkmus, Brainiac had Tim Taylor, an androgynous loudmouth in the classic Jagger/Johansen mold, with an Iggy-like appetite for audience-baiting provocation. And indie-rock bands at the time most certainly did not sound like Dayton’s Brainiac, which with third album Hissing Prigs In Static Couture hitched itself to the grand Ohio lineage of asbestos-huffing, industrial-decay punk (Pere Ubu, Devo) by perfecting a brand of short-circuit robot rock that made dance music out of violent shrieks and spasms. In other words, Hissing Prigs (produced by Eli Janney of Girls Against Boys, at the time the reigning kings of underground cool) was just the sort of album that would’ve turned the members of Brainiac into post-punk pin-ups had they come out of Williamsburg in 2002. Sadly, the band wouldn’t be around to lead the post-millennial new-wave uprising it played such a crucial role in instigating. Brainiac was set to begin recording its major-label debut when Taylor was killed in a single-vehicle accident on May 23, 1997. And oddly appropriate for a band underappreciated in its own time, Brainiac was even overshadowed in death: Whatever media attention Taylor’s passing garnered was quickly diverted when Jeff Buckley drowned six days later.
Catching Up: Guitarist John Schmersal formed Enon (producing less manic, more refined variations on Brainiac’s freak-punk schematic); bassist Juan Monasterio is in Model/Actress; and like so many drummers in the Midwest, Tyler Trent had a cup of coffee with the Breeders.
“Hot Seat Can’t Sit Down”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: POND
Pond // Sub Pop, 1993
After Nevermind, major-label A&R reps tirelessly scoured the Northwest in search of more damaged dudes with Superfuzz Bigmuff riffs and the whiff of flannel about them. Portland, Ore., never quite cottoned to the grunge orthodoxy but nevertheless nurtured its own society of slack: Heatmiser (featuring Elliott Smith), Hazel, Sprinkler and Pond. Originally hailing from Juneau, Alaska, Pond quickly gained acceptance in Portland’s notoriously cliquey indie scene. The trio’s self-titled debut is a naive, charming artifact of the times, complete with the Eastern-accented guitars and aggressive “lead bass” (strummed aggro-style on a six-stringed instrument cranked to infinity) that formed the swinging foundation of Pond’s swirling proto-emo.
Catching Up: In hindsight, it’s obvious that the band was a fleeting collaboration by two songwriters with very different agendas. After Pond broke up in 1998, singer/guitarist Charlie Campbell formed the experimental, muso-minded Goldcard, while singer/bassist Chris Brady began the more straightforward Audio Learning Center.
“Young Splendor”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: THE BEVIS FROND
Son Of Walter // Woronzow/Flydaddy, 1996
When Nick Saloman first emerged from his Walthamstow, England, inner marshland as the Bevis Frond in the late ’80s, he was a one-man band of no mean psychedelic prowess, self-releasing records on his own Woronzow label. He eventually ceded some of the musical duties to a trusted inner circle, although for his 14th album, he reverted to his old working methods. Son Of Walter’s sleeve proudly read, “Written, played, produced & designed by Nick Saloman.” By then, fans understood his yin/yang approach to songwriting; a little bit of Byrds jangle and Hendrix overdrive will get you far. Yet that doesn’t really do Walter justice. For amid these 80 minutes lurked neo-ambient soundscapes, merrye-olde folk strums and moody slices of noirish pop. OK, so there was also a 12-minute guitar freakout that sounded like it was nicked from Electric Ladyland. (Hey, old habits die hard.) But in its intimacy, elegance and diversity, Walter represented all that was cool about indie rock circa 1996.
Catching Up: Since Walter, Saloman has issued six Bevis albums (the most recent being 2004’s Hit Squad) and a number of records by side projects.
“Raining On TV”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: THE ORGAN
Grab That Gun // Mint/604 Imprint, 2004
Thought it’s only five years old, this Vancouver quintet’s debut might as well be moldering away in a thrift store, waiting to be discovered anew. The Organ spent half a decade preparing for its release (even re-recording the entire album) only to have it sink without an air bubble in the States. (Grab That Gun topped the college charts in Canada). In a way, this is fitting, as the album concerned itself with isolation and malaise. The Organ created a volatile backdrop of reedy keyboards and enormous Cure-like guitar and bass, and the cool alto of vocalist Katie Sketch defied it like a sailor lashed to the mast.
Catching Up: The Organ broke up in 2006, but released an EP last year. Sketch models and has a new band called Mermaids; bassist Shmoo Ritchie records as Die Cowboy Die; guitarist Debora Cohen fronts Lovers Love Haters.
“Brother”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: QUICKSPACE
Precious Falling // Hidden Agenda/Parasol, 1998
Quickspace was the second cult-classic band formed by London singer/guitarist Tom Cullinan; the first, Th Faith Healers, has gotten more press lately due to a 2006 U.S. reunion tour. But that’s all relative obscurity; the members of Quickspace were mere barbarians at Stereolab’s gate, hoping to crash that band’s posh assemblage of krautrock-fueled grooves. Precious Falling did cop some circular rhythms and add layers of guitar/keyboard fuzz, but in such a way that sounded ramshackle and under-rehearsed. Where Stereolab made music for cocktail parties and designer drugs, Quickspace’s Cullinan and singer Nina Pascale were loaded for mushrooms and cheap wine.
Catching Up: Matador issued the aptly titled The Death Of Quickspace in 2000. The band has released two seven-inch singles since, the last four years ago.
“Death + Annie”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: TRIPPING DAISY
Tripping Daisy // Sugar Fix/Good, 2000
One of the reasons why Polyphonic Spree leader Tim DeLaughter seems so relentlessly upbeat and annoyingly happy? He’s not in Tripping Daisy anymore. The Dallas band endured a long, hard slog through the ’90s due to major-label indifference (three albums for Island went nowhere), a hard-to-shake reputation as Flaming Lips lite and the 1999 death of guitarist Wes Berggren from a drug overdose. Featuring Berggren’s last recordings, Tripping Daisy’s self-titled swan song was a clear bridge to DeLaughter’s future (“Kids Are Calling,” with its “follow the sun” lyrics, is virtually indistinguishable from the Polyphonic Spree) but retained the punchy vibe of a free-spirited, guitar-rocking band that could tour in a regular-sized van.
Catching Up: A handful of Daisy members joined the ranks of the Polyphonic Spree. Guitarist Ben Curtis formed the Secret Machines with brother Brandon, while guitarist Philip E. Karnats issued a solo album in 2006.
“Kids Are Calling”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: THINKING FELLERS UNION LOCAL 282
Strangers From The Universe // Matador, 1994
It’s lofty to claim that a band has no influences and is creating a totally unprecedented sound. Actually, it’s impossible, even with the Thinking Fellers, who were at least indebted to fellow San Franciscans the Residents and British art-fools Henry Cow. Nevertheless, the Thinking Fellers sounded like no other indie-rock band in the early ’90s. Coming on the heels of 1992’s Mother Of All Saints (a sprawling, double-length horror show), Strangers From The Universe was a jump to normalcy for a band that didn’t know “normal.”
Catching Up: Aside from two live performances in 2004, the Thinking Fellers have been inactive since 2001’s Bob Dinners And Larry Noodles Present Tubby Turdner’s Celebrity Avalanche.
“My Pal The Tortoise”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: FLYING SAUCER ATTACK
New Lands // Domino/Drag City, 1997
Flying Saucer Attack was at the forefront of Bristol, England’s fertile mid-‘90s scene that included Massive Attack, Portishead and Amp. FSA mainman Dave Pearce indulged his love of krautrock, traditional British folk music and a post-shoegaze ambient aesthetic to forge records of uncommon beauty and passion. Nowhere near as fuzzed-out and lo-fi as its four predecessors (Pearce, who’d been wrestling with depression, claimed it marked his “second phase”), New Lands was still unmistakably FSA, from pulsing waves of treated and feedback guitar to massive, cresting dynamics to Pearce’s hushed vocals. New Lands is also fantastically vertiginous in the best, most My Bloody Valentine-esque sense.
Catching Up: After 2000’s Mirror, Pearce essentially vanished, turning up briefly for 2003’s Clear Horizon, a collaboration with Jessica Bailiff.
“Up In Her Eyes”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: RACHEL’S
The Sea And The Bells // Quarterstick, 1996
Neo-classical? Avant-chamber? Pre-rock? No one has ever been able to determine what genre of music this instrumental Louisville, Ky., collective played. There’s the modern-classical feel of 1995’s Handwriting, the chamber pop of 1996’s Music For Egon Schiele, the minimalist experimentation of 1999’s Selenography and the post-rock beauty of 2003’s Systems/Layers. But Rachel’s—pianist Rachel Grimes, bassist/guitarist Jason Noble, violinist Christian Frederickson and assorted friends and neighbors—were most impressive on The Sea And The Bells. Inspired by a collection of poems by Pablo Neruda, the album features 15 guest musicians, giving Rachel’s the opportunity to venture into full-blown orchestra territory. At turns classical, experimental, jazzy, ambient and avant garde, this hour-long set is unlike anything you’ve ever heard.
Catching Up: After collaborating and staging a multimedia piece with New York City theater company SITI in 2005 and 2006, Rachel’s went on hiatus. Noble plays in Shipping News, and Frederickson has recorded with Mission Of Burma and Matt Pond PA; the two formed the Young Scamels in 2007.
“Rhine & Courtesan”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: GODHEADSILO
Skyward In Triumph // Sub Pop, 1996
The mid-’90s are often characterized as Sub Pop’s fallow period, a time when the label tried to shield itself from the post-grunge bust by diversifying its holdings. However, its most enduring acts from the era weren’t the ones with the most immediate pop appeal but those embodying a more caustic, confrontational ethos: Six Finger Satellite, Earth and, the most punishing of the bunch, North Dakota duo godheadSilo. Skyward In Triumph’s toxic sludgefests were astonishing not just for their torturous abrasion, but their instrumental economy as well; bassist Mike Kunka and drummer Dan Haugh preached a philosophy of maximal minimalism that’s informed everything from the avant-metal contortions of Lightning Bolt to the thrash disco of Death From Above 1979. But nothing can prepare you for 11-minute monstrosity “Guardians Of The Threshold,” more than half of which consisted of a piercing, repeated note that would have even My Bloody Valentine’s Kevin Shields plugging his ears and begging for mercy.
Catching Up: godheadSilo disbanded following 1998’s less momentous Share The Fantasy. Kunka formed Enemymine (which briefly featured Low’s Zak Sally) before reuniting with Haugh (who was in a band called Dirty Knives) in 2004 to back former Murder City Devil Spencer Moody in Smoke And Smoke. Haugh now plays with Time Promises Power.
“Booby Trap”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: THE GO
Whatcha Doin’ // Sub Pop, 1999
Bands from across the globe have pledged allegiance to the Detroit rock flag, but when you need some serious Motor City mojo, you’d better call a local. Which is what Sub Pop did in 1999, signing these Detroit natives on the strength of their incendiary live performances. Featuring guest Jack White, produced by Outrageous Cherry’s Matthew Smith and engineered by Jim Diamond,Whatcha Doin’ slinked and swaggered like a streetwalkin’ cheetah, its live vibe making it a leather-jacketed mash-up of Fun House and Kick Out The Jams.
Catching Up: The Go issued a self-titled LP and the vinyl-only Supercuts in 2003 and Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride four years later. Robert Pollard handpicked the group to open the final Guided By Voices show in 2004.
“It Might Be Bad”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: NUMBER ONE CUP
Wrecked By Lions // Flydaddy, 1997
Unfairly pegged as a junior-league Pavement, Chicago’s Number One Cup distinguished itself from other genre coattail-riders by rocking a little harder and being just a tad more artsy-fartsy. The quartet’s Wire-loving core members—Seth Cohen (guitar, keyboard, vocals), Pat O’Connell (ditto) and Michael Lenzi (drums, vocals)—dialed down some of the overt slack-rock moves on sophomore effort Wrecked By Lions, amping up the power and refining the pop to magnificent effect.
Catching Up: After the release of 1998’s excellent People People Why Are We Fighting?, Number One Cup disbanded. Cohen and Lenzi played together in both X-Vessel and the Fire Show; Lenzi issued three EPs and one full-length as Resplendent; and O’Connell unplugged to a new career as an acoustic fingerpicker.
“So Inclined”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: SPAIN
The Blue Moods Of Spain // Restless, 1995
The Blue Moods Of Spain demonstrated what happened when the son of a jazzbo set forth to create a downcast, West Coast take on pure atmosphere. The cover art’s Blue Note quotation and Spain bandleader/bassist Josh Haden’s kinship to Ornette Coleman bassist Charlie Haden put the preconception of “jazz” on the tip of many listeners’ tongues. But Blue Moods was less about improvisational flair than it was about evoking a smoky, confessional vibe. Thankfully, all that ambience was backed up by considerable chops and Haden’s bottom-of-the-bottle baritone. Despite its immersion in the hipster Silverlake scene of the early ’90s (which included That Dog, featuring Haden’s sisters, Petra and Rachel), Spain had little patience for indie-rock preciousness.
Catching Up: Spain released two more albums before disbanding in 2001. In addition to various solo projects, Haden has collaborated with the Blue Man Group, Handsome Boy Modeling School, Donovan and others. Guitarist Merlo Podlewski has appeared on albums by Jack Johnson and Handsome Boy Modeling School. Haden has resurrected the Spain moniker and has plans for a new album and tour.
“Ten Nights”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: SPACE NEEDLE
The Moray Eels Eat The Space Needle // Zero Hour, 1997
During its 1994-97 existence, this Long Island outfit only mustered two albums before falling victim to label ineptitude and commercial indifference. Space Needle seemed disorganized, at one point overlapping with Reservoir (drummer/vocalist Jud Ehrbar’s solo vehicle) and Varnaline (guitarist/vocalist Anders Parker’s extracurricular gig). Yet by the time of The Moray Eels, Ehrbar, Parker and guitarist Jeff Gatland had achieved a visionary, vision-inducing sound. Gone was the lo-fi bedroom prog of 1995’s Voyager; in its place were 13-minute skronk fests, Frippertronic-esque reveries and violin-laced indie pop. That The Moray Eels was delayed for a year while Roger Dean dithered over sleeve art depicting dragons flying over a moonscape, though, seemed emblematic of Space Needle’s fortunes.
Catching Up: Ehrbar recorded two Reservoir records and played on most of Parker’s releases, but he’s been quiet of late. Parker issued four albums as Varnaline and two under his own name and collaborated with Son Volt’s Jay Farrar as Gob Iron; he has four new albums in the can awaiting release details. A Space Needle retrospective, Recordings 1994-1997, was released in 2006.
“One Kind Of Lullaby”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: EX MODELS
Other Mathematics // Ace Fu, 2001
For all the hype surrounding Brooklyn’s jittery post-punk revival after the turn of the millennium, breakout band the Yeah Yeah Yeahs turned out to sound pretty normal. Ex Models, on the other hand, jabbed in all directions: speed-metal drumming, hairpin tempo turns, skronky thrash guitar and Shahin Motia’s Devo-like yelped vocals. And despite the tightest, loudest live set this side of Shellac, Ex Models couldn’t compete with budding scene personalities Karen O and Angus Andrew (Liars). Other Mathematics, the trio’s debut, featured 13 songs—most under two minutes—that sounded like a metallic blitzkrieg on the Talking Heads’ catalog. It was either a migraine or an adrenaline rush.
Catching Up: Ex Models issued two subsequent albums, 2003′s Zoo Psychology and 2005′s Chrome Panthers, and a tour documentary about the band is in the works—view the trailer. Three Ex Models (Shahin and Shahryar Motia, plus drummer Zach Lehrhoff) also record and perform as noise-metal outfit Knyfe Hyts; two of the group’s self-released CD-Rs are being reissued by Jagjaguwar on vinyl, and three new Knyfe Hyts singles are due soon. Lehrhoff is currently playing bass in Pterodactyl, whose sophomore album, Worldwild (Brah), will be released April 21.
“Girlfriend Is Worse”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: VELOCITY GIRL
Copacetic // Sub Pop, 1993
Just when young, disaffected males had cornered the market on angsty yowling and bad clothing, Velocity Girl—a group of sun-drenched, pop-rock heroes fronted by Sarah Shannon—emerged. Dripping her sweet, wiry alto over tinny, feedback-laden guitars, Shannon charmed fans by commanding the middle ground between straight-up garage rock and saccharine twee pop. 1993’s Copacetic was, at the time, the second-highest seller in Sub Pop history behind Nirvana’s Bleach, helping to nudge the label out of its rather snug-fitting niche and giving a generation of young female rock fans a strong, sexy role model.
Catching Up: The band split in 1996 after two more albums. Shannon founded the short-lived Starry Eyes before going solo; her latest LP, City Morning Song, was issued in 2007. Guitarist Archie Moore was in the Heartworms from 1994 to 1998, and his current band, the Saturday People, most recently issued a self-titled EP in 2003. Drummer Jim Spelllman fronted Julie Ocean and got Tasered on CNN.
“Crazy Town”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: THE GLANDS
The Glands // Capricorn, 2000
There was a brief window in the early aughts when The Glands seemed to have legs. College radio had taken notice, and the Shins were in the midst of their unlikely ascent, giving smart, detail-oriented pop groups hope of hitting similarly modest pay dirt. It wasn’t to be, of course, but not for want of hooks. Frontman Ross Shapiro’s dry wit and languid delivery couldn’t hide the giddy spark on these traditionally structured but entirely non-formulaic creations. The Glands’ sophomore album rocked convincingly, lilted winningly, grooved unabashedly and serenaded inscrutably. There was little the Athens, Ga., group couldn’t do, except perhaps find a stable record company. The first issue of The Glands was on soon-to-fold Capricorn. The next stab was via non-starter Velocette. There were a few tours, rumors of a follow-up and, finally, sustained silence.
Catching Up: The Glands partially recorded a third album but are on a prolonged hiatus. Evidently, they are missed.
“Swim”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: CHAVEZ
Ride The Fader // Matador, 1996
“It was the worst experience of my entire life,” said Chavez frontman Matt Sweeney in a 1996 interview with MAGNET about the recording process behind Ride The Fader. The sessions for the band’s second album were strained by proximity issues (bassist Scott Marshall was often unavailable, due to his other career as a director/actor), but more profoundly by lengthy and unrewarding sessions with producer Bryce Goggin. Though two of Goggin’s tracks wound up on the album, the bulk of Fader emerged from a 10-day stint with John Agnello. The result was a fiery and disjointed album, destined to reward the men of Chavez with the fame the indie press had advocated for them. Alas, it wasn’t to be. The band’s brief tours were fiscally and psychologically draining, leading to the conclusion that Chavez just wasn’t worth continuing.
Catching Up: Fader and 1995’s Gone Glimmering were repackaged together by Matador in 2006 as Better Days Will Haunt You, and Chavez has played live as recently as three years ago. Sweeney has collaborated with Neil Diamond, Dave Grohl, Billy Corgan, Will Oldham, Cat Power and others; Marshall, despite directing 2007 Jessica Simpson bomb Blonde Ambition, still works in Hollywood; guitarist Clay Tarver co-wrote 2001 film Joy Ride; and drummer James Lo has played with Baby Dee.
“Unreal Is Here”:
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
