Brightest Young Things

It’s true. I couldn’t resist adding another column in hopes of turning you cats and kittens on to more music. This is going to focus on discs primarily from the 80s (and early 90s) that have long been hard to find or sort of fell through the cracks of the collective consciousness. They will also be true records in that you should own the whole thing and not download just a few songs. To make life easy, I will focus on spending some of your eMusic credits. The service is still spotty with new releases but an amazing array of back catalogues have come on-line and digging through ebay or gemm has now been simplified to single clicks at a fraction of the cost. Sit back and enjoy!

Felt has been on my mind quite a bit these past few months (although it is never far from my ear, as a rotation staple.) A love of the group’s output has proven to be an unexpected common bond of late as well. I had been laboring over which record to feature for months, while having discussions over the entire discography peppered by pleasant surprises (Comet Gain covering “Ballad of the Band” recently at the Black Cat!) when my mind was made up just a few steps from that very club. Embracing Record Store Day at Som (and dropping off posters for the DC Record Fair – more on that soon) by digging through the stacks and chatting with Jon Meyers of the Vinyl District, we realized we had both recently picked up a disc by the band that we hadn’t had previously, the starter assembly “Gold Mine Trash.”

Lawrence (just “Lawrence” thank you very much) had set out to release 10 records and 10 singles in 10 years and began at a torrid pace on Cherry Red before losing guitarist Maurice Deebank (a major schism in the minds of Felt die-hards) and decamping to Creation. He would ultimately make it, but only with the help of Mike Alway squeezing out his final disc under the moniker. All of the records are worthwhile, but the strongest songwriting is centered on the early records adorned with Deebank’s classically-trained twists and turns and glitter and spark. It would prove to be the perfect foil for Lawrence’s dry vocals (owning that small piece of real estate in which his range could manage, much like Lou Reed pulled off the city streets and recast as a phobic shut-in.)

Now, should you enjoy anything here, I strongly recommend just starting from the beginning with this enigmatic, yet easy to cherish, band. This isn’t my favorite album but it serves as a good spot to charge in as it is the only release during their active period that wasn’t actually part of the 10 records in 10 years plan (and Lawrence never counted it as such.) Released by Cherry Red to capitalize on the perceived success awaiting the group (which never materialized) this compilation managed to hit the top of the indie charts on it’s own.

The finds here may be the demo versions of “Dismantled King Is Off The Throne” and “Sunlight Bathed The Golden Glow” (you will quickly notice a penchant for ornate titles) but the instant joy is in the assembled singles “Trails Of Colour Dissolve,” “Penelope Tree” and the iconic “Primitive Painters.”

Should you have stumbled upon the group, it would likely have been via “Primitive Painters” and it’s Robin Guthrie production and Elizabeth Fraser vocals that add a serious ethereal gloss and serves as many indie rockers favorite Cocteau Twins moment. Deebank’s intricate guitar work does well to fly in and out of the fray even with Guthrie’s increased atmospherics. Lawrence’s mono delivery is highlighted all the more by Fraser’s flights behind him and the song serves to showcase their strengths as songwriters and performers as opposed to having them swallowed up by such a heavy drape.

“Primitive Painters” is unusual not just for it’s production, but also for its length. For die-hards like myself, one of the main joys in Lawrence’s work is his ability to contain it all in the 3-minute framework of the pop song. Starting off with the brittle shuffle of “Something Sends Me To Sleep” into the thump of “Trails Of Colour Dissolve,” the mix of 60’s coloring and Television-inspired post-punk interplay is fully on display. It comes together in full force in the equal parts plaintive and breathy “Penelope Tree” – a glittering gem among a treasure chest full of them.

“Sunlight” is great in any form and while it is thinner here, it highlights the guitar work in an interesting way. “Crystal Ball” slows down to meet The Go-Betweens in a nice intersection. “The Day The Rain Came Down” moves towards darker chords and incredible guitar figures. “Fortune” is a glacial and beautiful walk and “Vasco De Gama” pokes and plays as best they can before the divine “Primitive Painters” closes out the disc.

The end result lacks the cohesive nature of the early records (and the erratic styling of the later piano-driven work) but is a nice sampler. Take a listen to one man’s neurosis and passion in equal parts and the beauty that follows.

Full Felt feature to come someday soon and this promises to only be our introductory discussion so study up!

Ballads by the band

RIYL: The Go-Betweens, Television, Love, Velvet Underground, Belle and Sebastian, Creation Records and Cherry Red janglers