The Bitch is Back: Tats, Spaceships, and Shoegaze

Well -- I had been waiting to post until after the eight months long and counting nightmare that is my kitchen renovation was done, as for most of that time I've physically been unable to get to my computer behind the towers of boxes, cabinets, and other chaos clogging the arteries of my house like a hoarder's wet dream.  Unfortunately I'm worried that day may never come (it's been a week and a half since my contractor last returned any calls/texts about what exactly he's fucking doing -- but who's counting!), so wanted to take an opportunity before I dip home for my annual Lolla pilgrimage to toss out a couple recommendations that've been keeping me company amidst the relentless cuntpuntery.

First up is the self-titled debut from Prism Tats, which I discovered by complete accident a few months back.  I normally don't show up early for shows, usually opting to catch the last song or two of the opener to focus on the headliner, and if my timing's off and I miss the opener completely, that's the cost of doing business.  This night, though, because the art of posting accurate set times on your website or social media fora is too difficult for some to master (#2016isthenew1984 #whatsaTwitter #fuckyouandyourplans) we got there at the time for the headliner and instead got to see all of the opener's set first.  Thankfully that happened to be these guys, the normally solo lead singer/lyricist Garett van der Spek and a couple of onstage pals, and they were great.  Van der Spek sounds a little like Ours frontman Jimmy Gnecco at times, or even a punkier Jeff Buckley, with his soaring falsetto on songs, but it works -- both live and on the album.

They opened the former the same way they do the latter, with the drunken kazoo sounding intro of "Pacifist Masochist," which sets the tone well with its driving beat, catchy hook, and sharp lyrics.  Follow on tracks like "Never Been Shy," "Death of Fame," and "Haunt Me" all shine too, harnessing the band's brash energy and van der Spek's snarky, sometimes biting lyrics. ("I don't know where I'm going, but it's nowhere with you" on "Shy" or "sometimes I'd rather lose myself than prove myself alone" on "Pacifist.") Half the time you think he's kidding as he tosses them out with his high pitched delivery, but there's an acidic sincerity to the words that rings true and makes you wonder.  It's a great little album and definitely something to keep your eyes on moving forward.

Nothing tops "Weird Guilt" for me, though, which captures it all in a tight three minute package -- a killer riff, thundering drums, and those cryptic, catchy lyrics. ("I don't want to be your lover again, if being your lover means being your friend (no I no I no I don't), well does that make me just a little insincere?")  Pure sizzle -- check it out here:


Next up is a new layer to the continued obsession that's plagued me the last few years, that of Guided by Voices and their unrelenting frontman Bob Pollard. A buddy first introduced GBV to me fifteen-odd years ago when he gave me a copy of their classic Alien Lanes.  And while there were tracks on there that I instantly loved ("Game of Pricks," "Motor Away," "Blimps go 90") the album as a whole sort of overwhelmed me -- 28 tracks, some seeming afterthoughts ending almost as soon as they'd began ("Cigarette Tricks," "Hit"), others noisy oddities that seemed to be useless throwaways ("Gold Hick," the snoring overlay that drowns out "Ex-Supermodel"). It seemed too scattered and disjointed to me at the time, like it was rushed to market before an editor could get their hands on it and tighten it up.

It wasn't until Pollard put out the band's greatest hits compilation in 2003 that I really started to get into them -- killer tracks like "Everywhere with Helicopters," "Bulldog Skin," "Glad Girls," "Tractor Rape Chain," "Teenage FBI" were all over the album.  Those gems surrounded tracks I remembered from Alien Lanes, which gave me a new appreciation for the earlier material and the band itself.  You could hear the unmistakable influences more clearly now (The Who foremost among them) as well as the army of bands they inspired since I'd first been exposed (everything from Stone Temple Pilots and REM to Pavement and Neutral Milk Hotel).  When they broke up the following year (in what I'd come to learn was the beginning of a trend for the restless Pollard) and said farewell in an epic New Year's Eve marathon in Chicago (four plus hours, something close to 75 songs) I was fully on board.

I spent the intervening months downloading tracks from their seemingly endless supply of albums and EPs (well over 50, depending on how you count), and slowly started picking through Pollard's equally prolific solo efforts and side projects.  And I realized that while my initial assessment was still partly correct (Uncle Bob most definitely needs an editor from time to time), some of my favorite tunes included the ones that could initially seem like throwaways ("Tropical Robots" being but one example that leaves you wanting more).

Keeping up with the ever-burgeoning GBV catalog was enough to keep me busy for a long time, dabbling in some of his solo stuff if I had a few spare cycles, but it wasn't until I got a chance to catch them again when they came through town a month or so ago that I found the latest layer to my addiction.  They were here in support of their latest album, Please Be Honest (I've lost count with what number this one is -- somewhere in the high twenties) and the show was brilliant as always -- two and a half hours, two encores, easily fifty-odd songs (including a pretty great cover of The Who's legendary "Baba O'Riley" to close things out), several of which were from this band he kept referencing, the Boston Spaceships.

They were good tunes, very in line with vintage GBV -- sort of British invasion style songs, brash and poppy -- and I made a note to investigate more once the show was over.  As I'm sure is no surprise at this point, it's yet another Pollard side project that I'd somehow missed the bead on, and it instantly became the food for my obsession since the show.  Like later-day GBV lineups, the band recorded with a rotating array of excellent musicians (John Moen from the Decemberists, Mick Collins from the Dirtbombs, J. Mascis of Dinosaur Jr.) and together managed to reel off a slew of equally excellent tracks.  Check out the greatest hits album as a starter -- there were the ones I recognized from the show ("Come on Baby Grace," "Tabby and Lucy," "Question Girl Alright"), as well as several other winners -- "You Satisfy Me," "Earmarked for Collision," "Make a Record for Lo-Life," the unsettling drone of "German Field of Shadows." It's a great addition to the repertoire and will keep me going back to the well (as well as the original albums) for months to come.  Check out "Come on Baby Grace" for a taste:


We'll close with a track from a fun little lo fi discovery I stumbled on from another band I'd been introduced to years ago, but also let drift in the intervening years.  I'd first heard this London band back when it was a quartet for its self-titled debut and really dug on their fuzzy style of shoegaze. (I swear I caught them at Lolla that year but can't seem to confirm that so maybe I'm making it up...) Their follow-on was a bit of a let down so it was by chance I heard their new album, Stranger Things, was out and gave them another try.

I'm glad I did, because despite losing a member (original guitarist/vocalist Daniel Blumberg) the remaining three respond nicely on this tight little eleven track effort.  The band continues to call to mind Smashing Pumpkins and Built to Spill at times with their fuzzed up guitars and meandering melodies, but they do so without sounding derivative.  From tracks like the charging "Cannonball" and "Only Silence," to more dreamy downtempo ones like "As I Walk Away," "Like a Moth," and the epic closer "Yr Face" (which could easily be in either the Pumpkins or BTS' catalog) the album shifts styles nicely over its 45 minute duration.  "Hearts in Motion" is the purest distillation of the band's strengths -- solid riffs, all fuzz and thunder, while lead singer/guitarist Max Bloom's melodic coos hover over the din.  Great little track -- check it out here: