Blue Glass' Pale Mirror

When I think about the techno-Goth-alternative bands in the '80s, I'm not really thinking about the obvious and flamboyant ones like the Cure and Depeche Mode. I'm very picky within these genres and there's a lot I don't like, but there are a few more low-key choices I still really dig such as the Psychedelic Furs or Sisters of Mercy or even, in small doses, Echo and the Bunnymen. Pale Mirror, the new album from Seattle-based Blue Glass, sounds like one of those albums that came out around 1982 or so and straddled that fence between the new techno trends and New Wave that was still driven by the sound of guitars. This was the world New Order navigated so well, but I think that's because they went to the sunny, danceable side without much resistance. Bands like Blue Glass, or at least bands that sounded like Blue Glass thirty years ago, stayed on the safe side, the one with the strings and the real drum kits and the gloom that stings your face.

Blue Glass is primarily one man named Michael Shunk, who also plays with a PNW band named Transient Songs. (I reviewed their last album here.) He envisioned this album, as well as the Blue Glass moniker, as a way to explore his own feelings about Seattle and how it changes during the winter. Shunk's songs focus on images of ice and cold and loneliness, and they also suggest the PNW habit of hibernation, of cutting yourself off from the world for weeks while you curl up with a good dozen books from Powell's. In many ways this is a modern-sounding release, with a nice groove and lots of detail, but Shunk's influences are strong. Months ago, when I first listened to the CD, I immediately thought of Psychedelic Furs. Now, after more time has passed, I hear The Cure more, but really early Cure. You know, the good stuff.

I was actually set to review the CD some time ago, but then the LP arrived and I thought well, I'll have to do a comparo. That'll take time, right? Actually, I no longer have much interest in comparing these two formats, but I will say that the vinyl is sweet, with very low surface noise and nice dynamics. I feel like we've been on a lucky streak with this indie vinyl lately--even the little guys can get quality pressings in this day and age.

That brings up one more little point. As you can see from the photo, this is the first album I've reviewed while using the Technics SL-1200G turntable. I've got the G hooked up to a quality chain of components: Miyajima Madake cartridge with Miyajima step-up transformer, Nasotec swing headshell, PureAudio Vinyl preamplifier. This analog rig is a ton o' fun because everything is so precise, and everything works so well. The ease-of-operation is fascinating to me, because I'm sometimes tempted to play the CD over the LP just to save time. (Or, more likely, I'm just being lazy.) The 1200G is such a machine, and now I'd rather throw on the vinyl when I can.

In that spirit, I need to break this beautiful beast in, and I have a lot of vinyl to review. The weekend looks like rain.

Transient Song's Stealing Sand on CD

What does this remind me of? Hmmm.

Transient Songs is a Seattle-based band that classifies themselves as psychedelic, but I hear something more specific and provocative in their somewhat dreamy and heavily textured indie pop. Their new album, Stealing Sand, is easy on the ears, sunny even, a reminder of languid days on the beach listening to new types of music take hold and blossom. Pinpointing the timetable of those exact days is somewhat elusive--perhaps the mid '90s? With so much of today's music focused on electronic and sampled creations full of sharp corners and spurious noise, Transient Song is a band full of the soft contours so typical twenty years ago, with compact songs full of unusual chord progressions and a deep-seated affection for long-ignored pop trends.

Jon Frum and Michael Shunk specialize in a two-guitar approach that blurs the lines between rhythm and lead--both have different yet complementary styles that sound like a calmer version of what I heard on Thurston Moore's epic Rock and Roll Consciousness last month--tight, uniform and logical. Frum's vocals are equally relaxed, which gives these ten songs a deliberate feeling, an obvious beginning and end.

The band, which also includes bassist Dayna Loeffler and drummer Craig Keller, does flirt with psychedelia as advertised, but only for brief periods. That gives the music an edge that separates it from the mindlessly happy--pop groups usually don't performed songs titled "Shoppin' for Coffins" and "Drug Dreams"--but you won't mistake Stealing Sand with White Light, White Heat. If anything, the band reminds me of Ultra Vivid Scene or perhaps Afghan Whigs.

I wound up enjoying this album more than I initially thought--mostly because it takes me back to a time when a simple four-piece rock band could conjure up moods and ideas by merely being themselves and playing songs that come from the heart. This is the second time in a week I've declared that an album "grew on me," and a lot of that feeling was reinforced by sticking this CD in my car and driving around all week in its good company.