Saturday, October 31, 2020

SAVAGE RADIO PLAYLISTS OCTOBER 2020: WVMO 98.7 FM-THE VOICE OF MONONA

 

SAVAGE RADIO EPISODE #237
"REMEMBERING TOM PETTY 2020"
OCTOBER 7, 2020

1. "Wildflowers" performed by Tom Petty
2. "Change Of Heart" performed by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
3. "Girls" performed by Dwight Twilley
4. "Cold Day In The Sun" performed by Foo Fighters
5. "When A Kid Goes Bad" performed by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
6. "Deadly Stare" performed by Thompson Springs
7. "Crystal River" performed by Mudcrutch
8. "Country Girl" performed by James Iha
9. "I Forgive It All" performed by Mudcrutch
10."Louisiana Rain" performed by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers

SAVAGE RADIO EPISODE #238
"A TRIBUTE TO EDWARD VAN HALEN"
OCTOBER 14, 2020

all songs performed by Van Halen
1. "Eruption"
2. "Poundcake"
3. "Jaime's Cryin'"
4. "Cathedral"
5. "Don't Tell Me (What Love Can Do)"
6. "1984"
7. "Jump"
8. "Unchained"
9. "Once"
10."Push Comes To Shove"
11. "5150"
12."Spanish Fly"
13."Dance The Night Away"

SAVAGE RADIO EPISODE #239
OCTOBER 21, 2020

1. "Sunday" performed by David Bowie
2. "Peacekeeper" performed by Fleetwood Mac
3. "War Cry" performed by Joe Strummer
4. "Shinola" performed by Utopia
5. "When A Solution Comes" performed by The Kinks
6. "Losing It" performed by Rush
7. "Maggot Brain" (live) performed by Funkadelic
8. "Neon Sisters" performed by Thomas Dolby
9. "No Surprises" performed by Radiohead
10."Rebirth Of The Flesh" performed by Prince
SAVAGE RADIO EPISODE #240
OCTOBER 28, 2020
"SAVAGE ELECTION 2020"
1. "Fight The Power" performed by Public Enemy
2. "Black Man In America" performed by Andre Cymone
3. "So Many Millions" performed by Fishbone
4. "You're The Man" performed by Marvin Gaye
5. "Turntables" performed by Janelle Monae
6. "Armor" performed by Sara Bareilles
7. "Gaslighter" performed by The (Dixie) Chicks
8. "Doubleplusgood" performed by Eurythmics
9. "Believe It" performed by Planet P. Project
10."Power To The People" performed by John Lennon
11."Liar" performed by Todd Rundgren
VOTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SPLENDID ISOLATION: "MOVEYS" SLOW PULP

"MOVEYS"
SLOW PULP

SLOW PULP:
Alexander Leeds: Bass Guitar, Vocals
Emily Massey: Guitars, Vocals
Theodore Matthews: Drums and Percussion
Henry Stoehr: Guitars, Keyboards, Vocals

with
Willie Christianson: Slide Guitar and Harmonica on "Montana"
Molly Germer: Violin on "Falling Apart"
Michael Massey: Piano on "Whispers (In The Outfield)"

Cover painting "Night Navy" by Nancy Mladenoff

All music and lyrics by Slow Pulp
Engineered, Mixed and Produced by Henry Stoehr

Released October 9, 2020

How often is it for you that an album instantly solidifies its sense of time and place in its initial  moments?

I do not necessarily mean that you have fallen in love with the work mere seconds upon that first listen. What I mean is how the music and the vibe, the aura, and the sensations presented in those first moments are so powerful, so defining of an emotion, whether connected to a time, place, person, event, etc..., that it almost presents itself as some sense of inexplicable nostalgia, although what you are hearing is brand new. This is unquestionably a difficult concept to explain (as much as it is to write), but that being said, try to imagine hearing music that very first time and knowing, without any hesitation or question, that you are home. 

That is exactly how I felt in the opening moments of the excellent new album from Slow Pulp.

"Moveys," the debut full length release from the Madison, WI originated and now Chicago, IL based band Slow Pulp is breathtaking. A perceptively wise and deeply felt triumph, the shimmering, glistening document of a young band artistically maturing and fearlessly extending themselves with meticulous warmth, grace, daring openness and brave fragility. In short, the album is the sound of growing up increasingly anxious and isolated and captured in all of its enlightenment, melancholy, considerable pain and even some dashes of well placed self-deprecating humor to lessen the emotional blows that come with act of aging into and engaging with a larger, colder, and more turbulently precarious world...especially one that currently is engulfed with a terrifying pandemic. Slow Pulp have emerged with a delicate document, perfectly tailored for this specific moment in time, that is as intensely personal as it is universal in its scope and empathy.  

And now, there are those aforementioned opening moments...

The journey of "Moveys" begins with "New Horse," and all it took was a mere 26 seconds for me to fall hard. A bed of acoustic guitars, sounding like the act of leaves descending from trees in autumn on a cold, grey morning, exquisitely set the scene. Lead singer/guitarist Emily Massey's instantly warm, inviting vocals, on which she richly harmonizes with herself, pulls us inwards. "Baby don't tell me," she begins. Then, at that moment, on that first listen, I stopped the song abruptly.  

It was a strange, unexplainable feeling I had in those 26 seconds, yet I knew those emotions as I sighed and swelled at what I had just heard. Certainly, it was utter pleasure at hearing the guitar strings being plucked with such clarity that it felt as if the band were directly beside me, along with Massey's voice surrounding me closely like a treasured cover against the cold. Everything felt so right, so true, so real and so direct, that there felt to be no barrier between myself and the music. It was right here, in the room with me, living and feeling alongside me. I obviously had no idea of what was to follow but I was ready to hear it again, wondering if my reaction perhaps had been a fluke.

It wasn't.

Starting "New Horse" over again and then proceeding, filled me. Again, the sonic display perfectly weaved its autumnal spell through subtle textural instrumentations of which I could not discern but perfectly  augmented the inner tension contained in Massey's vocals, especially when she offered the seemingly naked admission, "If I could treat myself better/I know I'm still getting better/I might come back/I'll hope for that." 

In just a tiny fraction over two minutes, Slow Pulp had captured something that I truly could not quite place but very shortly revealed itself to me. They had encapsulated the moment in which I was living, and therefore, what I am feeling all of us are living in during this time of prolonged uncertainty and anxiety and for so much of the time when the activity of the world all but stopped yet the world continued to turn. "New Horse," to me, captured the moment that now existed within every moment, when internal thoughts, worries, concerns, fears, doubts and truths became amplified due to the lack of distractions while being increasingly isolated. The band clearly touch a nerve, or several...and they were just getting started.

"I know now/I'm not all that you wanted," Massey realizes at the outset of "Trade It." With gently strummed electric guitars replacing the acoustic textures, Massey's vocals gradually begin to build upon themselves, practically curling around the lyrics and melody, mining for strength and reclamation in the face of what feels to be rejection. "For it's honest/I'm all I had," she sings, clearly holding onto whatever sense of self and well being she can gather. And yet, while she is "almost out" and admits that "I'll fall back down," the internal wherewithal remains, via Bassist Alexander Leeds and Drummer Theodore Matthews' rising rhythm section augmented by Massey's equally rhythmic coos that almost sound like the act of exhales. "I'm coming to take it back," she declares, maybe only to herself.

The full band arrives ever stronger upon "Idaho," a song of striking juxtaposition as we are being given a song about nagging negativity threatening to fully overtake into downfall or defeat.

"I'll keep you out
My body knows me now
I'll try to be without
Sleep on your shoulder for now

I'll keep on holding out for the downside
Before I knew why
I don't think I can win your side on time 

I'm losing all the while..."

The state of depression, especially when the lives of loved ones are closely involved, is precarious. Filled with self-awareness combined with a matter-of-fact sense of inevitability and even a misguided sense of protection through isolation rather than connection felt evident as I listened. Massey's vocals surround knowingly as her bandmates keep marching forwards before fading into the ether courtesy of high pitched ambient wisps of sound.

Reportedly written either for or about her Mother, "Track," finds Massey reconnecting into her love, whether within a moment when both Mother and daughter are together or possibly, while apart, and the possibility of reunion is uncertain. Matthews' drums feel like the urgent heartbeat, while what I am assuming are Guitarist Henry Stoehr's six string atmospherics (am I hearing an E-Bow?) feel like threads of memoires contained inside unbreakable heartstrings. 

"I love the crossing lines on your face," Massey sings at one point. "I'll try to salt the fruit like you did," she sings in another moment of memory.  Yet over and again, she promises, "I will recall your name/I see you in my face/Love you always/Love you always/Love you always." 

It is as if the two will never see each other again.

Falling into the same old patterns and mistakes sit at the heart of the terrific dark power pop of "At It Again," as the intertwining guitars, aggressive beat and pitch perfect sing-a-long chorus demands repeated listenings despite the singer's confessions of her own repetitive failings.

With a snippet of studio chatter, "Moveys" enters its second half with the surprise of hearingAlexander Leeds taking what I believe is his debut lead vocal on "Channel 2," a song of procrastination, ennui and disconnection when communication is desired but is possibly not accessible.

"Concentration takes up all of my time
I'll come back tomorrow
Your hesitation tells me what was on your mind
It's never convenient...

...Expectations keep me in the back of the line
I'll come back tomorrow
The situation tells me what was on your mind
It's never convenient..."

With the sparkling lift from Leeds' engaging vocals and especially, Henry Stoehr's brief yet flashy guitar solos, Slow Pulp utilizes this otherwise energetic yet brooding selection to prepare us for the greater emotional downshift to arrive. "Channel 2," made me wonder if this track was simultaneously presenting a portrait that was an either an answer or counterpoint to the songs on which Emily Massey handled the lead vocals. Was Leeds' voice a response to Massey's or was it an additional voice within Massey's, thus signifying all of the myriad of thoughts and inner voices that either support or plague us all, even at the best of times. Yet, now, here we are in an ongoing season of pandemic and isolation, in which time has become even more elastic, making the process of self-regulation, arriving at decisions and realizing those decisions increasingly difficult and sometimes, maybe even often futile. 

The piano instrumental "Whispers (In The Outfield)" is stunning. It paints such a precise aural picture of the autumnal isolation we have been experiencing throughout the album. It is a song of windswept, lonely grey days, with all thoughts and memories as your only company. Sometimes you do not need words and this selection is elegantly crestfallen.

The arrival of "Falling Apart" and "Montana" provides the album with a profound existential ache, presented with such directness and exposed nerve endings, that the two songs richly encapsulated everything that preceded it while also arriving a some sense of a congealed, cumulative statement. In fact, the songs reminded me of the feelings I experienced when I first heard the song "Drum In," the shattering climax of "Collector" (released March 6, 2020), the debut album from Disq, friends and contemporaries of Slow Pulp.  

In "Falling Apart," Emily Massey returns, accompanied by a languid tempo that is as filled with sorrow as it is filled with something rather intoxicating. The scene finds Massey "Looking at the TV/Thinking that you're dreaming" while "Feeling like a deadbeat," as se contemplates moving forwards but her demons sadly contain louder voices.

"Why don't you go back
To falling apart
You were so good at that
You're one in a million now"

Taunted and tormented by her own thoughts, "Falling Apart" is a song of mounting depression, and existing in that dangerous state of just sticking with the devil you know as opposed to taking a possibly more frightening leap into something potentially better, simply because it is still the unknown and nothing is promised. This song sounds like the threat of slipping into a warm coma.

"Montana" feels to represent a certain moment of truth, where anxiety has taken superior hold, with self-inflicted messages of self-loathing and laceration, all designed to stop oneself from even trying to move forwards at all. 

"I'm a bad mess
I'm a loner with no plans...

...I'm a contest
I'm a loser with no chance..."

And yet, that semblance of inner strength remains to keep asking for help, to request for someone to "Hold my hand...again," and for her own spirit to be strong just enough to "Come on get out of my head," as Massey repeats the word "Head" in a similar fashion to moments within "Trade It." It is a painful song, filled with palpable sadness with sighing slide guitar and sobbing harmonica and Massey's vocals sounding like she is breathing life back into herself. Absolutely gorgeous.

"Moveys" concludes with the title track, an instrumental which feels like an oddball outlier but to me, is a perfect conclusion to an album so interior. With its hip-hop beat and more abrasive sounds and vocal textures of real world commands to "Move it!!, "Scram !!" and "Get back!!," we have re-entered the world outside in all of its rudeness, harshness, energy, grit and spit and right along with our album's protagonist, as she (and therefore, we) faced down her demons to place one foot in front of the other all over again.

Slow Pulp's "Moveys" is a commanding work of grand delicacy and bittersweet fragility as it practically glistens and shimmers through your speakers while making direct emotional contact. It extends and contrasts with their previous release, the beautiful 4 song, 11 minute EP "Big Day" (released May 15, 2019) as it is the band's most expansive work to date. While the sound and aesthetics are not too far removed from their earlier singles and EPs, Slow Pulp have considerably widened their musical palate to contain more acoustic textures, an even greater sense of nuance and atmospheric texture while presenting a conceptual canvas to create a work that can house two instrumentals, a musical adventurousness that drifts to alt-country via its aching ballads and yet they sit comfortably alongside crunchy indie power pop. 

And...it is only a mere 26 minutes!! While this is the longest duration of any Slow Pulp release thus far, it does fall shorter than the more traditional 35-40 minute album length. Even so, and in that miraculous Slow Pulp fashion, it is a complete statement. It just remains absolutely remarkable to me as to how the band has tis uncanny ability to discern and distill however many potential elements into exactly and precisely what the song needs, and nothing more. Their skill in this regard is meticulous and they grow stronger with each release, making "Moveys" a work where every one of their songs are honed and sharpened to their finest points.

I have no idea as to what their collective and individual musical influences may happen to be or not, but to my ears, Slow Pulp's "Moveys" is yet another indie rock release that owes a certain debt to what was created on Fleetwood Mac's far ahead of the curve double album "Tusk" (released October 12, 1979), as the emotional nakedness combined with the musical inventiveness re-invented what the pop music landscape could actually be, if it were just that brave enough. 

Slow Pulp is undeniably that brave, so fearless in their art that they weathered a  certain amount of storms to make "Moveys" happen as it was an album that experienced a difficult gestation. It is a work where the band recorded material that ended up being unused and they were brave enough to begin all over again. It is a work where Emily Massey herself was fraught with serious health issues, and still, she continued to write, to sing, to create. It is an album where Massey's parents in Madison, WI were involved in an equally serious car accident, which involved their hospitalization and recovery, as Massey's home base is now in Chicago. And then, COVID-19 arrived, forcing the shutdown and social distancing, meaning the album was completed while in quarantine.

It woud be completely forgivable if the band decided to call it a day, even as their star was ascending due to the obstacles and whatever doubts and fears they harbored individually. How thankful I am that they all persevered and it is again yet another testament to the healing power of music.  

As I have so often stated concerned Slow Pulp and their contemporaries, I have always been so struck with how all egos are dismissed from the musicians as they all work in favor of the song itself. I know firsthand what Henry Stoehr can do as a guitarist as I have experienced him within live performance settings in which he takes his guitar to the stars. Yet, for these songs, Stoehr remains a superbly tasteful player, never over or under playing but always being intuitive to the song's structures, composition and textures. 

Perhaps it is his growing skills as a Producer that assists him in being a great team player and studio artist who paints with sound. I believe this is the first Slow Pulp release to contain cameo appearances from outside musicians, confirming that the band is not so precious with their own material that they are adverse to other voices being present to help them realize their collective voice as best as possible. 

Case in point is the instrumental "Whispers (In The Outfield)," which Stoehr composed and yet does not play himself, even though he is a fine keyboardist. Somehow knowing that his touch was not quite right, he reached outwards to none other than veteran Madison based pianist Michael Massey--Emily Massey's Father--to perform the song while convalescing from his car accident injuries. This decision was a masterstroke as it not only spoke to the aforementioned healing power of music but to that ephemeral quality that extends from performer to instrument and whatever emotions housed inside of Michael Massey that were so empathetically delivered to the song, allowing it to become what Stoehr envisioned. It is unquestionably an album highlight that further informs what Slow Pulp is capable of.  

As the band's frontwoman, Emily Massey remains powerfully compelling and bewitching. She has truly been blessed with an uncanny ability to shapeshift her persona with such a seemingly effortless ease, from her power pop diva days as the lead singer of the now defunct Modern Mod. As she has solidified her space within Slow Pulp, and especially upon "Moveys," she has shape shifted again into something more akin to Aimee Mann and John Lennon rather than David Bowie and Shirley Manson. "Moveys" finds Massey in confessional mode. No frills or fantasy. Just open hearted and direct and the strength is presenting such fragility so fearlessly via her finest vocals to date showcases another layer of her power. 

For Alexander Leeds and Theodore Matthews, they continue to exist as a succulent, supple rhythm section who operate, again, with a tastefulness and subtlety that might make you miss exactly how diligent they are for they are not playing to call attention to themselves. Theodore Matthews especially impressed me greatly as he has always possessed a wonderful feel to his playing. He practically glides when he hits that ride cymbal. With "Moveys," Matthews, for me, has ascended further into that rarefied Mick Fleetwood/Ringo Starr territory where he, like is bandmates, delivers only and exactly what the song needs while simultaneously playing in sync with Leeds while also playing in support of Massey's vocals. 

Slow Pulp's "Moveys" is a shining debut/continuation for a band that in unafraid to evolve. It is quite possible that whatever arrives next from the band may sound even different while also showcasing their progression. Yet, for now, the foursome have unveiled a work that speaks to this intensely fragile moment in our collective existence as the so-called "new normal" is anything but as the unknown an d unpredictability has become the only predictable thing in our lives, and that includes our states of being psychologically, emotionally, and spiritually as we are in desperate need of contact at a moment when we should be apart.

We are all in need of connection and the kind of lengthy embrace where you hold each other so tightly that you can feel each other's hearts beating. It is a gift that Slow Pulp's "Moveys" is now in the world, for when we reach to embrace it, it will reach back.

And I believe we will be able to feel each other's beating hearts.

Monday, October 19, 2020

WORDS FOR EDWARD VAN HALEN

EDWARD VAN HALEN
JANUARY 26, 1955-OCTOBER 6, 2020

The news arrived upon my phone via a message from a dear friend. 

Immediately after reading the note, I clicked over to a news source to gather the confirmation that I really did not wish to read. Edward Van Halen, guitar virtuoso extraordinaire and member of Van 
Halen, the iconic band that bore his name, passed away after a lengthy battle with cancer. 

He was only 65 years old. 

Now, as quiet as it had been kept as the Van Halen family, from actual blood relatives to band members, did not reveal terribly much to the music press or public at large, it was already largely known that Edward Van Halen had battled cancer for many years and that, in and of itself, was factored on top of the decades of substance abuse he had endured and recovered from. In many ways, Van Halen's passing did not contain the same amount of shock as when David Bowie, Prince and Tom Petty all passed away in such a wind extinguishing surprise. 

But that being said, none of the impact of the news was any lessened, tragic, and devastating. For Edward Van Halen, like any of our heroes, was a figure that seemed to be superhuman because his gifts, talents, discipline and performances were superhuman and the level of inspiration that followed is unquestionably immeasurable. Like the aforementioned artists and so many others that came to stardom during my formative years, they are indeed reaching the time when mortality is evident and once their ends have been met, I feel the loss powerfully. For they are all inside of me. For they are all figures who helped me t understand myself and my place of existence within existence. For they entertained me, enlivened me, inspired me and enraptured me. Edward Van Halen was yet another seismic figure who has been a part of my life for over 40 years of my life and the world instantaneously felt so different from the day before the news was shared solely because he is no longer living and breathing along with me. 
My introduction to Edward Van Halen, and the band that bore his name, arrived to me at the age on 10, when I was either in 4th or 5th grade in 1979. I was listening to Chicago's WLS-AM when the song burst through the speakers like musically inspired rays of sunshine. 

The opening cowbell, guitar riff and drum pattern set off the tune into a groove that was nothing short of delightful but also contained that rock and roll grit that spoke to my soul. It felt like it was made for strutting down the school hallways (and I would gather for older kids, designed for cruising the high school parking lots) and when the vocals kicked in, all gusto and Pied Piper bravado, I was certain that I was listening to a new single from KISS...or was I? I couldn't put my finger on it but it did indeed sound like KISS but decidedly not and truth be told, the further the song played, I was just swept away by the joyousness on display as those heavenly backing vocals implored me to "Dance The Night Away." By the end of the song, I was a fan and after the DJ announced the band's name, I never forgot it.
   
While for so many listeners, the entry point to Van Halen was indeed the stellar, spectacular debut album "Van Halen" (released February 10, 1978), which itself featured the game changing "Eruption" (more on that later), and therefore, solidifying Edward Van Halen as one of the greatest guitar heroes to walk the planet the mere moment his fingers hit the six strings, my entry point to the band was through the singles released, every one of them an absolute joyride, filled with the superior musicianship, crisp songwriting and glorious production that ensured the band sounded like no one other than themselves from the very first notes played.   
From the end of my 5th grade year and all of the way through Middle School, Van Halen was there for me as they were all over the Chicago radio FM dials. "Beautiful Girls," their roaring cover of The Kinks' "You Really Got Me," the fire and brimstone "Runnin' With The Devil," "Ain't Talkin' Bout Love," "Jamie's Cryin'," and of course "And The Cradle Will Rock..." (complete with my Mom's deathly side eye glance whenever the line "Have you seen Junior's GRADES????" was uttered) were as fully digested as the concert footage I would see of "So This Is Love?" and "Unchained" as well as the bizarre, cartoonish, and vaguely sex fetish fantasy filled music video of "Intruder/(Oh) Pretty Woman" and I LOVED every single one!!!

There was no question in my mind that Edward Van Halen was a Herculean guitarist but that was not yet what I had clued into. For Van Halen was a full band that represented a crucial point in rock music during the late 1970's and early 1980s as the hard and prog rock of the era was being forced to reckon with the rise of punk and New Wave, and also with funk, R&B and disco, all of which were vying for our collective attention. 

Miraculously, Van Halen circumvented every trapping, cliché and genre and essentially became the precisely right band at the right time. Melodically rich and beautifully loud, Van Halen carried a certain aesthetic that was not too far removed from a band like say Cheap Trick, a splendid blending of power pop, hard rock and theatricality combined with that rock and roll gang attitude that suggested choirboys who copiously drank the communion wine and told dirty jokes in the church vestibule. And despite the now legendary internal tensions within the band, these were four men on top of the world who looked like they were having more fun than anyone else alive and that included their rapturous audience and legion of fans all of whom consumed with Van Halen's boundless energy and joy. 

Their personas were set as larger than life figures and integral members of the gang of four. The anchor of Michael Anthony's bass guitar work and the astonishing counterpoint of his exemplary high harmony vocals, the swagger, swing and splash of Alex Van Halen's percussive attacks (clearly he is one of rock's most underrated drummers and even moreso, nobody else captures his specific snare drum sound) and undeniably, the circus ringmaster showmanship of the mighty "Diamond" David Lee Roth were all figure stones surrounding the dynamic tornado that sat within the core of the band's vortex...the inimitable Edward Van Halen. 

While all of this was clear for me to witness, it did, however, take one album, complete with an entirely unexpected creative risk, that solidified everything I had already loved and then, crystalized it into a new entity where I could firmly understand what had been happening all along while also witnessing where they were going.
I turned fifteen in January of 1984 and the memory is as present as ones just created moments ago. I remember that the basement in my parents' house had just been replaced and on the day the work was fully completed and ready, I returned home with a copy of Van Halen's "1984" (released January 9, 1984)

Even though my birthday had occurred shortly after the album's release, I remember it being a gloomy to intense time at home as my grades had not lived up to my parents' high expectations, and therefore, trust needed to be re-earned and copious eggshells were walked upon from my end as any movement that seemed to suggest that I was not taking my education seriously would result in more of my parents' combined disappointed, exasperated fury. For whatever the reason, while I was still emotionally tied up in knots, my parents were in oddly good moods but I didn't trust it for they could return to stark disciplinarians in a nanosecond. I ventured down to the basement and our family's stereo system, which I had long commandeered as my own as I used it the most. I placed the album upon the turntable and the needle descended to the spinning vinyl...

I swear, it sounded as if Blade Runner emerged and fully engulfed my basement in sound as the synthesized instrumental "1984" overflowed from the stereo speakers and enveloped the room!!! I was absolutely lifted, a sensation that increased tenfold by the arrival of the now iconic synthesizer fanfare that opens "Jump," the very song that inspired me to venture out to purchase what would be the first Van Halen album in my collection, as well as deeply inspire my desire to get a synthesizer of my own!

Over the duration of the album, everything clicked as never before and in doing so, I listened more closely and constantly as I had taped the album and listened to it over and again while at school, the music serving as the perfect soundtrack for the life of a fifteen year old boy trying to navigate his way through adolescence.  
It was then that the magic and majesty of Edward Van Halen spoke to me so firmly and completely. And while for me, the key was the synthesizer and not the guitar, everything on display throughout that glorious album (the band's sixth) alerted me to what had been occurring over the previous five albums. Van Halen was a band that bridged the gaps between hard rock and heavy metal (especially giving birth to the "hair metal" bands that they themselves deftly disassociated themselves with) while also unapologetically embracing pop and songs that demanded that you get up and dance (their cover of "Dancin' In The Streets" is transcendent to me).

But this time, I could hear Edward Van Halen louder and clearer than ever and it was as if my head split apart with the full realization, that actually continues to reveal itself to me even to this very day. Over the band's first six albums, Edward Van Halen's playing encompassed hard rock and heavy metal certainly, But, he was exceedingly far beyond just being a flamethrower. He was pop music. He was art rock. He was dance music, as well as soul and funk. I would even dare say that he was jazz and I absolutely proclaim that he was classical and orchestral (if you do not believe me, I dare you to listen to violinist Niccolo Paganini and not hear the direct connection). 

And yet, for all of his heroics, virtuosity, agility, dexterity and acrobatics, Edward Van Halen was a team player as a guitarist, as he always played to the song itself when he could have easily soloed off in to the next galaxy, leaving his bandmates behind. Perhaps that is why he never created a solo album (sort of...more on that later). Perhaps, he enjoyed the comradery of being in a band, creating and playing together making every element of the song sparkle to its finest sheen.

Edward Van Halen was a player of extreme tastefulness. Even when he did take a solo piece like the serene "Cathedral" from "Diver Down" (released April 14, 1982), the lullaby of "316" from "For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge" (released June 18, 1991), the glistening electric sitar piece "Primary" from the controversial "Van Halen III" (released March 17, 1998), or the fluttering, dizzying "Spanish Fly" from "Van Halen II" (March 23, 1979)everything was tailored to the song, delivering everything it absolutely needed, no more, no less. Even with the aforementioned "Eruption," a track that is indeed the most magnificent calling card that one could ask for, it makes its statement in less than two minutes and honestly, did you need anything more than what he gave in that song? 

Of course, Edward Van Halen was not the first guitarist to utilize the whammy bar or the tapping technique. But absolutely NOBDY performed it in the way that Edward Van Halen achieved. "Eruption" revolutionized the way we heard the guitar and for that matter, it revolutionized the way we though that we knew the instrument it could even be played. In sound, the song for me felt like the climax of Stanley Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey" (1968), most notably, the sequence of being hurtled through the center of the interstellar vortex complete with all manner of psychedelic lights, colors and sounds and keeping with the astronomical metaphor, "Eruption" was THE BIG BANG! 

For as dizzying and as dexterous as it sounds and must have been to perform, it also just sounds like so much fun!!! Like the act of playing the guitar can be so fun and free and it could sound like that! Not to suggest that it would be easy because clearly it isn't. But, it felt like we were hearing Edward Van Halen unfiltered and consumed with unabashed (once again) joy! It is a song of discovery and possibility and in doing so, generations of people were then inspired to pick up a guitar and try to discover the possibilities for themselves. And then, with "Jump," he achieved the same feat all over again but with the synthesizer, as generations of listeners--including myself--instantly wanted to know how to play that fanfare and go on the journey too.

This particular quality I think is what endeared Edward Van Halen to us rather than keep us at arms length via his skills, techniques and peerless abilities. Every song was an invitation. Every performance was inclusive. Yes, I think he wanted to dazzle. But, on an exceedingly greater level, I also think he wanted to inspire!! To open the doors of discovery and possibilities in the universe of music to all of us and hopefully, we could see what he saw in what he so obviously loved and treasured himself. 

And we could see everything in his playing, an act that existed in the purest form of the verb itself. Edward Van Halen, above all else, played and he encouraged and invited us to play along with him. 

And I was ready, more than ever, to see, hear and experience wherever he and the band would take me next.
I was seventeen when the sea change within Van Halen occurred as David Lee Roth departed the band and Sammy Hagar, already a long established solo artist, accepted the invitation to join forces with the band. Regardless of the on-going debates upon who was better suited for the band, I remained firm in my devotion and for me, this new phase of Van Halen ascended to even greater heights.

Despite the clear skill of their respective and collective talents as songwriters and performers, Van Halen upon to this point had existed as something akin to being the ultimate party band. Something dangerous, reckless, somewhat dirty and moved at the speed of light without blinking. But now, with  Hagar, the band over time evolved.
Sure, there may be a faction of Van Halen fans that never would wish for the band to do something as horrific as mature. But they did. Of course they never truly discarded the raucous hijinks and dirty jokes, but as the band remained with me throughout the remainder of high school, the entirety of my college years and well into my post-college young adulthood, it felt as if the band was growing with me as songs developed a romanticism, a yearning and even a spiritual quality and deliverance that was not present in the early years. 

While we still had the likes of "Poundcake" the Zeppelin stomp of "Cabo Wabo" and the spectacular "Source Of Infection," we were also given "Dreams," "Mine All Mine," the downright Beatle-esque "When It's Love," "Right Now," and two particularly striking songs that would never have existed during the Roth era and also could only emerge through the aging process, the mystical "The Seventh Seal" and the emotionally shattering "Feelin'" from the band's darkest effort "Balance" (released January 24, 1995) their final effort with Hagar, also due to internal tensions.  
The albums grew in length, songs expanded revealing wider sonic canvases and extended instrumental passages. And in Hagar, who possessed a stronger singing voice and an actual range, Edward Van Halen was therefore allowed to play even further, building the solos intro grander territories and weaving them intricately into especially greater layers of his superb rhythm playing, one of which for me was his work on "Don't Tell Me (What Love Can Do)," in which the brittle, savage tone of the riff combined with the mounting fury of the track's multiple solos brings tears to my eyes. 

In doing so, and utilizing cinematic terms, Van Halen, and Edward Van Halen in particular, went from 70MM Dolby into IMAX!

Just as with the early years, Edward Van Halen's playing was dictated by the song itself, not a series of solos looking for a musical frame work to bond with. While the Roth era songs were tightly constructed, packing so much bang for the buck, so to speak, the four Van Halen albums of the Hagar era afforded Edward Van Halen with a much larger canvas on which to musically paint and express himself, and the result deeply spoke to me, enthralled me and as always, inspired me. The arrangements became more complex while not sacrificing the significant wallop and roar we had come to expect and the guitar layers grew more elaborate and even lyrical without sacrificing what made him so much fun to experience. 

Again, Edward Van Halen was playing with sound and texture, wit nuance and dynamics in ways that grew from album to album, making it clear that he was not interested in existing as just the guitar gunslinger. Edward Van Halen proved over and over again that for all of his flash and style, he was a musician...a musician's musician...albeit one who never left his fans and listeners behind and spiraled off into some arcane sense of artfulness. No longer the kid, he had long grow into manhood with all of the trappings of what it means to become and adult. Yet, that grin--the one that combined the bad boy with the kid in the candy store enthusiasm remained. And moreso, the innocence that exists within play.  

He was still discovering and in doing so, he always invited us into his journey. 
By 1998, I was nearing the age of thirty and Van Halen was making yet another transition, albeit one that proved to be as controversial as it was, as far as I am concerned, was necessary. Sammy Hagar had departed the band and a possible reunion with David Lee Roth had fallen through. And so, highly improbably, the decision was made to have Gary Cherone, former lead singer of Extreme, join the band and like the bulk of the Van  Halen fan community I am certain, I was extremely skeptical after hearing this news. But, I figured that the band must have clearly known something that I did not and that the choice was made for a reason and I would just have to wait to hear the results for myself.
"Van Halen III," titled for this third phase in the history of the band, was met with more than its share of derision critically, from the fan community and even album and concert ticket sales. In fact, one fan site apparently loathed the album so completely that they decided to wipe out the album's existence from the band's discography upon their fan page (the dangers of the fan community--I'm looking at you Van Halen News Desk). And even so, for me, and despite some flaws, I have a deep affection for this album, which is easily the one album in the band's discography that houses the greatest creative risks, and in some ways, it is the album that feels as if we are receiving Edward Van Halen at his most unfiltered, relentlessly inventive and innovative and ultimately, absolutely free.

This may be a strange interpretation of that album especially as the band certainly was not coasting upon their considerable legend. Van Halen most definitely did have something to prove with Gary Cherone's arrival and also for being an aging hard rock band in a world where hip-hop had become the dominant musical force. They were worlds away from the ebullient hedonism of the classic early years and the more straight ahead yet expansive, high charting arena rock of the second era, and somehow, "Van Halen III" stood out, and for many listeners, not in the best light.    

Granted, aside from "Without You," radio friendly material was not apparent. As during the Hagar era, songs expanded in length and textures, also a factor in keeping material from easily reaching radio airwaves. Lyrical content also grew to being more serious And admittedly, Gary Cherone's vocals did often drift into the "elephant balls" category, but in his defense, he had something hefty to prove and I cannot blame him for swinging for the fences. But, here is where I would hope that those who dislike the album, even the ones who vehemently detest it, would at least try to give it one more shot as "Van Halen III" is the album where Edward Van Halen swung for the fences unlike ever before. 

Earlier, I had made mention of the fact that Edward Van Halen had never made a solo album. That being said, "Van Halen III" is quite possibly the closest to a solo album that we would receive from him, even though it remains a band album.  For starters, Michael Anthony's presence was greatly diminished as he performed on only three songs while Edward Van Halen performed all of the bass guitar parts for the remainder of the album. Unafraid and unchallenged by his bandmates with what to just try and utilize to create the songs, the rewards, as far as I am concerned, were over-flowing.
Just regard how he stalks through the brooding "From Afar," only to emerge and spiral upwards through a glistening ping-pong solo. The guitars sound positively liquid upon the appropriately named "Dirty Water Dog," while he extends himself brilliantly at his most bluesy on the nearly nine minute Zeppelin styled lament, "Year To The Day." And the surprises to me continued to arrive in the astoundingly wistful nostalgia of "Josephina" and he still allowed himself room to roar on the ferocious and politically tinged "Fire In The Hole" and "Ballot Or The Bullet" (which throws in a spectacular slide guitar solo).  

Yet, above every other track on the album the one that truly showcased the depth and breadth of his skills was the keyboard driven, seven minute plus dream world of "Once," during which he reveals an extended solo of superb texture, nuance, and dare I say it, a certain maturity that only arrives with the aging process. It is a solo that feels to be so untethered to the past while simultaneously ascending from it. In some ways, he sounded as if he entered whatever realm the late Frank Zappa existed within as a guitarist and exited as his equal. 

And yes, there is the album's final track, the six minute plus piano ballad confessional "How Many Say I," on which Edward Van Halen takes his first lead vocal, sounding not terribly far from something you might hear from Roger Waters and definitely like nothing one would ever expect to hear upon a Van Halen album. 

Again, for an album that was deeply experimental and had a new lead singer to get ourselves used to, for many fans that song was the final straw and it was rejected outright as it just wasn't what Van Halen was perceived to always be. For so many, Van Halen is not a band designed to evolve...although they did. They were the ultimate party band and "Van Halen III," in particular, was the album that clearly possessed no interest in delivering that particular band. Yet, it was not confrontational by any means.  In fact, it was demonstrably sincere and earnest, more qualities that are not associated with rock and roll hedonism, and especially for a band that began their career runnin' with the devil. But for me,  however, Edward Van Halen remained as ingratiating as he ever did as he truly seemed to be lost in the wonderment of his own playing, discovering just how far he could go and inviting us along for the ride.

Sadly, too many did not wish to take the trip he undertook and with unexpectedly diminishing returns this time around, Gary Cherone departed the band amicably and Van Halen went dormant for the following 14 long years, their longest hiatus since their 1978 debut.
In 2012, I was 43 years old. 

Van Halen, having been completely out of the spotlight for over a decade had not diminished my love for them, although, I was increasingly feeling that perhaps the possibility of any potential new sightings would be more slim to none by this stage. So, imagine the massive surprise from fans, myself included to receive the news that Van Halen would not only return for a new album and tour, but that original lead vocalist David Lee Roth was officially back in the fold while Michael Anthony was out, therefore making room for Edward Van Halen's son Wolfgang (who joined the band at age 16 yet was 21 by 2012) to enter as the band's new bassist.  
"A Different Kind Of Truth" (released February 7, 2012), the band's twelfth album is now, definitively the band's final effort and in many ways, it feels as if the Van Halen story had arrived full circle with this work. 

The reunion with Roth had finally given longtime fans exactly what they had been wising for for decades and the result was quite possibly the band's loudest, hardest, heaviest, most aggressive album with any sense of pop chart leanings and artistic extravagances (it sounds as if there is barely a keyboard on the album, and song lengths are now tightly concise) stripped away in favor of an army of ferocious guitars firing away in feral yet meticulously arranged songs that pummeled dynamically and showcasing that Edward Van Halen had lost absolutely none of his flash and fire in all of the years away. In fact, he sounded even more powerful.

On a more existential level, "A Different Kind Of Truth" is an album of booming thunder and blinding white lightning that feels very much to suggest that these men (save for Wolfgang, of course) are raging against any sense of going quietly into that proverbial good night as we are hearing performances at their most searing. Edward Van Halen's playing, in particular, felt akin to an audio speedball, hitting harder and faster while maintaining that prodigious amount of quicksilver melody, flow, tastefulness and forever adhering to the often pummeling demands of the song itself. 

While reportedly, tensions remained with Roth, it was unquestionably to anyone with a pair of eyes to witness how over the moon Edward Van Halen was with being in a position to play music with his family, most notably, directly alongside his son. The family affair aspect of this incarnation and period of the band provided Edward Van Halen, and all of us listening and watching, another opportunity to lose ourselves in the relentless joy of this band, while leaving us awestruck all over again.      

Looking back upon this period of the band, it was a win-win scenario for all involved, I would imagine. The fans received their greatest wish, the return of David Lee Roth as well as a re-invention of the signature sound created during the band's first six albums featuring Roth. The album and ensuing tours were grand successes as well, making the escapade a victory lap for the band. In short, the "party band" was back but as we all know too well, parties weren't meant to last forever. 
Since 2015, the world of Van Halen became silent.  There were hushed stories floating around the internet about Edward Van Halen's supposed declining health. But then, his son Wolfgang would post a photo of himself and his Father or the man himself would post an image. Nothing that would necessarily confirm or deny the rumors but just a little something to let all of us who loved him know that he was still with us, always armed with his trademark smile that always felt as welcome as the very smile you would receive from your best friend. 

Certainly, the fan community would often speculate what the next move within Van Halen would or could be and in doing so, the endless yet passionate debates between Roth era VS. Hagar era fans raged onwards. It even seemed for a quick moment that even Michael Anthony would return for a potential tour of the original band in full, but that came to pass as rapidly as it was uttered. 

Speaking solely for myself, I continued to hope for a Van Halen album unlike any other previously released: an instrumental album featuring only the Van Halen family: Alex, Wolfgang and Edward. In fact, the only mention of any new music arrived from Wolfgang, as he has been preparing his debut solo album for some time, one on which he will sing every note and play every instrument himself. As I (still) eagerly await to hear what Wolfgang Van Halen will emerge with, I still held out that maybe Edward Van Halen was not as ill as had been hinted and maybe, just maybe, he could return one more time, in some capacity. 

But it was through the on-line notification from Wolfgang himself that confirmed what I believe all of us never wished to be true, even if we had suspected, due to what we did know of his health issues. Edward Van Halen, one of the greatest figures to ever hold a guitar, was no longer of this Earth with the rest of us.
Despite the devastating nature of the news and this new reality, the passing of Edward Van Halen feels so unreal to me, mainly because even as he aged, he always seemed so youthful, so childlike as he functioned as the embodiment of what it means to play. This is not to detract from his discipline, his diligence or his dedication to his craft, skill, artistry and talent. Not in any conceivable way.

I just think of the actual definition of the word "Play," which according to Merriam-Webster is a "free or unimpeded motion" or from Oxford Languages, "an activity engaged in for enjoyment and recreation, rather than a serious or practical purpose." Again, I am not suggesting that Edward Van Halen never took the guitar seriously or did not actively decide to utilize his talents for the practical purposes of starting a band and then, build his professional life as a working musician. I am speaking to the spirit he exuded when he performed. And when he picked up a guitar, Edward Van Halen knew how to PLAY!!!!

It was that very sense of PLAY that attracted his sound to my spirit. It was that very sense of PLAY that kept me coming back always wanting to hear more as well as hearing everything I had heard allover again. It was that sense of PLAY that made me wish and dream that maybe I could play the guitar too--and if not he guitar, then my drums or a piano or keyboard or anything at all where I could discover my  own sound, whatever it may be...even if my sound happened to be the written word.    

For all of his Herculean gifts, there was something about Edward Van Halen that felt to be so approachable. Perhaps it was all in his name, especially when we all called him "Eddie." A name of such familiarity and non-formality that it could only be said in friendship and in turn, it kind of always felt like it was received in that way as well. Edward Van Halen, for all of his legend and iconic status, felt as down to Earth as our best friends, a crucial element that makes his passing so difficult to fully regard and accept for who wishes to say goodbye to their best friend?
   
Two more observations...

First, after the news was released and I began to formulate my thoughts, I realized that I have almost never heard the man speak in all of these years. Even now, I have a vague notion of what his speaking voice actually sounded like as interviews I had seen with him were typically in print. And regardless of his fame, recognizability and even as tabloid fodder during the 1980's and 1990's, as well as that aforementioned sense of approachability, there was also a large element about the man that was mysterious and foreign. He never went out of his way to ensure that he was noticed, at least through any sort of celebrity. In fact, I remember one interview in which he described himself as being the "quiet one" in the band. I mention this now because I think for Edward Van Halen, I firmly believe that it was always and only about the music and to that end, if we wanted to hear his voice, all we had to do was to listen to him PLAY. 

Furthermore and honestly, as I think of him now and how my friends and I would speak of him, it was always and only music related. To this day, I vividly remember the vehement arguments that occurred in the high school hallways at the time when it was announced that Sammy Hagar would join the band after David Lee Roth's departure. I remember one friend practically shouting, "It's David Lee Roth's band!!!" to which another friend rebutted just as passionately, "It's Eddie's NAME!!!!" And that was the camp I firmly planted myself within. Not David Lee Roth's or Sammy Hagar's, Gary Cherone's or any other singer, with no disrespect towards any of them.

For me, Van Halen, as a band, would cease to exist only when Edward Van Halen decided to either depart or end it, for without him, there is no band. And...with a heavy sigh, I have to admit that it does feel more than fitting that out of every member that existed within that band ever since the 1978 debut album, Edward Van Halen was the first to pass away. Resurrecting the band without him is unthinkable and unfathomable. It just does not exist without him. 

Last thought...I return to "Eruption" right now as I have been re-listening to it and now, the song sounds different to me. In a sense, it kind of sounds like Edward Van Halen himself and the impact he made upon the world in his lifetime. The song, and therefore, Edward himself, feels like a comet, a ball of fire blazing through our atmosphere, all stupendous heat and majestic, mind-blowing light, appearing in a flash and then, just as suddenly, it is gone.

Thank you, Edward for being our rock and roll comet, the one who made us take immediate notice and held us enraptured and inspired us to reach skywards. 

PLAY ON...
EDWARD VAN HALEN
REST IN POWER

Monday, October 5, 2020

SYNESTHESIA'S SESSION NOTES FOR OCTOBER 2020: THE RISE OF SLOW PULP

 

SLOW PULP
(l-r Emily Massey, Henry Stoehr, Theodore Matthews, Alexander Leeds)

FROM THE DJ'S STUDIO DESK:
The last time I set foot in a venue to experience live music was this past December 2019, as I ventured out to see my friends in both the Madison based band Disq, who themselves opened for the evening's  headliner, the Madison born now Chicago based Slow Pulp.

This evening certainly was a celebratory one for certain as I had been regarding both bands and this collective of musicians for a few years now. After a 2019, which saw both groups perform well received sets at the SXSW Festival and the fact that Disq had already recorded their debut full length album for the Saddle Creek label and that Slow Pulp themselves had already released the wonderful EP "Big Day" (released May 15, 2019), it was truly something to watch the ascension, the growing attention, the growing validation of their considerable efforts and artistry receiving the very notices that I had so deeply wished for them. They had all come so far and this particular night would serve as a victory lap.

I first met Slow Pulp guitarist/keyboardist/songwriter/producer Henry Stoehr a few years ago when he was performing as an auxiliary member of the now defunct Madison band Modern Mod, in which Emily Massey served as the formidable lead singer. Stoehr also, at that time, also was a member of the currently dormant Trophy Dad in addition to the very band that would become Slow Pulp (as all of the material under the band's previous identity has been wiped clean from internet sources, I will respectfully refrain from referencing the name and output). 

Upon our first meeting, Henry Stoehr presented himself with a familiarity that was unforced, open, warm and genuine. It was as if we had already been friends for years, that was indeed how natural our rapport happened to be, and I am pleased to report, has remained so ever since. There was something of equal parts knowing and open hearted about him and as with essentially all of these young musicians, all I could do was to wish them well and hope that whatever the music industry would possibly bring to them, may it all be more positive than negative as I never wished to see this young man's spirit bruised by an unforgiving business.      

On the night of the show, and after quite a lengthy period of not having seen each other face to face, Slow Pulp arrived to the venue and I had the chance to speak to Henry Stoehr again on this chilly December night, during which this homecoming performance would signal the conclusion of nearly a year's worth of touring. Stoehr, still with that gleam in his eyes, was indeed very tired and understandably so due to all of the travel, which he admitted had finally caught up to him, making him look forward to returning to his Chicago abode for a lengthier duration. I also reunited with Emily Massey, who also was looking forward to slowing down a bit while also exploring her songwriting even further and without distraction. Both band members then informed me that a full length album was indeed in the works as writing had commenced. 

By showtime, I marveled at the tremendous growth contained in their full performance, which showcased a greater depth, maturity, nuance, pacing and even poetry than ever before, definitely showcasing how much they had clearly learned over the years as the foursome continued to congeal beautifully, making the band they used to be seem worlds away.

When I first met Henry Stoehr, drummer Theodore Matthews and the Minnesota based bassist Alexander Leeds, all friends since childhood, I thoroughly enjoyed and was considerably intrigued by the band they used to be. It was one, like their  contemporaries was presented without any sense of self-congratulatory ironic distance or jadedness. There was, as presented through their scrappier, raw and almost defiantly lo-fi earlier efforts, a creative joyfulness at hand. A willingness to have some fun bashing around, getting sounds recorded and still be skilled enough as budding songwriters to discern how these exceedingly left-of-center selections would work, and therefore exist, as full fledged songs.  

By the time of the band's name change into Slow Pulp, and the arrival of Emily Massey into their ranks, a progression began to occur on "EP2" (released March 9, 2017). While the sonic display remained lo-fi, the songs became stronger. Massey, who since the conclusion of Modern Mod, briefly was also a member of the short lived band Melkweed, injected an ethereal seductiveness into the mix, which generated slinky, smoky material like "Preoccupied" and the drowsy, dangerous "Die Alone." 

Subsequent singles "At Home" (released June 5, 2018) and "Steel Birds" (released November 1, 2018) each charted considerable growth as the songs, growing ever stronger, benefitted from a more polished production and then, the excellent, succulent "Big Day" found the quartet firmly solidified as a formidable, fully idiosyncratic unit that honestly sounded like no on else other than themselves, to my ears.

Now signed to the independent Winspear label, Slow Pulp has made yet another leap as they are just about to release their debut album entitled "Moveys," which thanks to the band, I have been able to hear in advance and I was thrilled to receive my official copy in the mail this past weekend. While I will delve deeply into the album for you in a future post upon this site, I can so proudly announce that the album is indeed a winner as it carves out a delicate, melancholic, superbly thoughtful and poignant song cycle that takes everything the band has utilized in its atmospheric aesthetic and has extended themselves even further. 

As with their contemporaries in Disq, who coincidentally delivered a prescient work in their album "Collector" (released March 6, 2020), which arrived one week before our nation became officially engulfed in the COVID-19 pandemic, Slow Pulp's "Moveys" feels perfectly in sync with the emotional, psychological, and spiritual tenor of the times.  The album possesses an open-hearted inventiveness and conviction that emerges through the intense noise of the world with a nerve ending exposed empathy that is consistently disarming in its directness and clarity, even when the emotions are all a jumble.

It is a work that so often surprised me as well as amazed me because again, I am so fortunate to have been a witness from a considerably earlier stage, observing the growth in real time and now, watching an hearing them as artists armed with a stunning collective voice which has more than earned its place in the indie rock lexicon. 

My pride for them is bursting as is my overall concern that they are able to navigate this business, and for that matter, this pandemic, with their hearts intact. For the music of Slow Pulp is one of such purity and an unapologetic guilelessness. They are the real deal and dear listeners, in this world that carries so much artifice, Slow Pulp can more than supply enough of an antidote.

Congratulations are more than in order, especially now in this horrible, frighteningly dark year. A year in which Slow Pulp has emerged with an album that absolutely glistens!  

And when you hear it....PLAY LOUD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!