When
I was fourteen years old, it seemed like everything was Nirvana, and Nirvana
was everything. With the Lights Out
had just hit shelves, catalyzing a furious interest in the band’s back catalog
that ran rampant through my friend group in high school. Burned copies of Nevermind and In Utero were passed around like a juicy piece of gossip;
however, it wasn’t until I browsed the local FYE that I ran into a copy of
their debut, Bleach, an album I just
could not understand as a child. But having recently felt its pull again, I
dove right in, this time arriving at a new appreciation for Nirvana’s gritty
and groaning first-impression.
Lots
of my favorite records tear into a run right off the gate, but it’s been a long
time since I’ve heard anything erupt quite like Bleach does. This record has almost more energy than it knows what
to do with: Krist Novoselic’s bass roars behind a guitar drenched in feedback
and overdrive, Chad Channing’s bass drum beats like a blacksmith’s hammer, and
Kurt Cobain yelps and growls with such force that his throat sounds like it’s
about to collapse. The band rages through slow and fast tunes alike, imbuing
the grinding beats of “Sifting” and “Paper Cuts” with the same visceral passion
as those in “Negative Creep” or “Downer.” Kurt’s rampant guitar tones conjure
up spirits similar to Black Sabbath, yet the band rocks with a ferocity oft
reserved for hardcore punk acts like Minor Threat. Nirvana manages to give
every ounce of strength and feeling they have to their music, forcing each song
through the speakers like a shotgun blast.
Though
the priority of this record’s sound is certainly energy, it is not all noise
and ire; the beginnings of the pop sensibility Kurt Cobain would be worshipped
for are apparent even on their debut. Though in a few short years Nirvana would
be considered the kings of grunge, when the band was writing Bleach, they were dealing with an
apparent pressure to conform to the Seattle sound that surrounded them.
The scene wanted heavy guitars and screeching vocals, and while Kurt did his
best to oblige, he could not keep his softer influences entirely absent; “Swap
Meet” and “School” both revolve around catchy vocal melodies, and “About a Girl” wholly embraces a pop angle, forgoing dissonance or insanity for gentle
vocals and tailored key changes.
Even
before the world was waiting for him to write “Smells Like Teen Spirit” over
and over, Kurt Cobain had a knack for blending the heavy and the melodic, and
“School” is an excellent example of this synthesis. Operating wholly on a
“less-is-more” ethic, the four chords and fifteen words that make up “School”
manage to create a piece both riveting and rocking. Chad Channing’s voracious
drumming guides the tune through dynamic changes, while Kurt’s guitar and
vocals battle for the spotlight, remaining brutal in the style of Bleach, yet catching the ear more than
enough to cause a craving. “School” is a prototype of the formula that would
soon drive Nirvana to success, a song incubating the emotions and attitudes that
Kurt would explore more heavily in later records.
Besides
forming a pop blueprint, “School” is indicative of the Bleach sound in other ways, specifically the sparse and general
lyrics that blanket the record. As Kurt admitted in interviews, “With Bleach, I didn’t give a flying fuck what the lyrics were about. Eighty percent were written the night before recording.”
This lackadaisical approach to writing leaves a lot to be desired from the
lyrics, especially direction. “Big Cheese” and “School” can be taken to address
the band’s experience with corporate influence, but random lines like “She is glue, how are you?” force the song to veer off into nonsensical
territory. Similarly, “Scoff” almost sounds like a mission statement, but how Kurt’s
demand of “gimme back my alcohol” adds weight to that statement is unclear.
Indeed, other than a penchant for fun little rhymes, “Sifting” fails to
communicate anything at all.
Although
lyrical content might have been “the least important subject” to Cobain, he
does manage on occasion to say something of value on Bleach, specifically on the theme of rural communities. The
nightmarish “Floyd the Barber” bastardizes America’s favorite small-town, but
in doing so, Cobain comments on the massive disparity that exists between TV’s
Mayberry and the reality of working-class life. Similarly, “Swap Meet” caricatures
two characters scraping out a brittle living by selling items at the flea
market, and from the bitter way they apparently avoid each other, their
existence is far from happy. Songs like these show Cobain as completely capable
with a pen in his hand, if only he chooses to apply it.
The
lyrics might be wanting for some love, but overall, Bleach is as loud, gritty, and honest as a debut record ought to
be. As Kurt puts it, Nirvana’s purpose was simply “to have fun, write songs,and play.” There is passion without pretension on this record, and for
Nirvana, that passion “comes before anything else.” Bleach shows a band just working to get their footing, pressing
their hearts onto vinyl and launching it into an uncertain future. Over ten
years since I first bought my copy, I can finally hear that truth, and it is
indeed a sweet sound.
I listen to lots of music. Tons of music. All the time I surround myself with it. My every workday is soundtracked by the thousands of songs on my ancient iPod, every car ride defined by whatever album is spinning in my CD player. My tastes cross over almost every genre, and so it is rare that I am completely floored by a new song, nevermind an entire album. But from the very moment I decided to explore the newly-remastered, self-titled record by American Football, I was knocked off my feet by the completely original sound and the overwhelming human presence that each song encapsulates.
Although considered to be a seminal record of 90’s emo, the sound of American Football far surpasses any genre label that tries to encompass it. Short of some almost-distorted chords in the coda of “Honestly,” there is hardly any edge to the record at all; Mike Kinsella and Steve Holmes focus on tangling their guitar parts together, skipping through jangly and gentle melodies that work in perfect unison. Similarly, drummer Steve Lamos’ beats move like a lazy river, driven by jazz sensibility with nary a crash cymbal to be found. Interaction is the focus of each piece, all three musicians coalescing into harmonious compositions that are utterly pleasing and wholly exciting to the ear.
Although the energy of the record is somewhat lackadaisical, there is no apathy to be found; in fact, American Football spends more time than most assembling intricate pieces of music. The record abounds with time signature changes: “But the Regrets are Killing Me” wavers constantly between 4/4 and 9/8, while the band flaunts in 5/4 in “You Know I Should Be Leaving Soon” and 7/4 in “The Summer Ends.” To make matters more complex, apparently each song features a completely different guitar tuning, because according to Kinsella, “no two songs [are] in the same key.” Despite this convoluted nature of the compositions, there is no pretention in any of the songs; each piece breathes with its own life, existing as it is without trying to prove itself. American Football’s three musicians move effortlessly through their technical tunes, yet they manage without effort to wring true human emotion from each and every note, drenching their sound with their souls.
One of the best examples of American Football’s synthesis of prodigious musicianship and honest expression is the de facto closer to the record, “Stay Home.” At just over eight minutes, this sprawl of a song features all three band members playing in different time signatures “that sync up every so often.” The music is focused only on the idea of possibility; each repeat links differently with another part, creating a sonic orbit of sorts that only returns to the beginning after a lengthy journey. With “Stay Home,” the band isn’t trying to impress anyone with their skills, monster though they may be—in fact, they’re not trying to do anything at all, instead standing back and letting their song evolve as it sees fit. “Stay Home” is neither a performance nor an exercise, just a few friends teasing their instruments in and out of beautiful synchronicity.
The instrumentation of American Football is the focal point of human emotion; the “feeling” of the songs stems heavily from the guitars and percussion, and as such, the vocals and lyrics provide more accent than content. Kinsella’s gentle crooning refuses to take the spotlight, but instead fades in and out of the songs, applying context to the instrumentation without truly defining it. As Kinsella relates, most of the lyrics were written “on the spot” or pulled from a journal of his teenage years. Indeed, the band was so focused on the work of their instruments that both Steves were unaware of most vocal melodies until the band performed live.
According to Kinsella, the focus of American Football was always “the interplay between the guitars,” and ostensibly, the instrumentation is far more prioritized than the lyrics—hence the two instrumentals, one of which is simply named for the odd instrument used in it. However, when there are words to be had, the band melds them with music in wondrous ways, and no more so than in the opening track “Never Meant.” Holmes and Kinsella create a complex web of guitar work that is stunning yet dolorous, while Lamos taps out a gentle beat laden with syncopation.
The music is hauntingly beautiful, but Kinsella’s melancholy vocal really nails the sentiment home by giving the sadness a background. In a voice both detached and mournful, he tells his ex-lover to forget “everything said / and everything we did / best friends and better halves.” Emotion bleeds through the speakers as his vocals merge with the music as he states “you can’t miss what you forget” before imploring “let’s just pretend everything and anything between you and me was never meant.” Between the sparkling guitars and Kinsella’s fearsome lyrical statements, “Never Meant” has been proclaimed by the band as a “good representation” of their sound and feeling, and from false start to the final fade, it hits me just as hard as my first broken heart.
With its incredible synesthesia of instrumentation and humanity, American Football is truly a wonder, yet what is more unbelievable is its striking lack of conceit. As Kinsella relates, the record “was literally the last thing” recorded before college ended, and that “we knew we were going to break up” before recording was even finished. For American Football, their eponymous LP is simply a collection of feelings and thoughts from their college days, created for no one but themselves. That honesty rings loudly in each of their 9 songs, and it is no wonder this record has since been held in such high regard. American Football captures with powerful clarity the cadence of the human soul, and I have no doubt I will be stuck on this record for years to come. Tunes to Check Out: 1) Never Meant 2) I'll See You When We're Both Not So Emotional 3) But the Regrets Are Killing Me
Disclaimer: The following piece is a
super-in-depth look at one of my favorite records, and as such, it is riddled
with personal opinions and praise for said record. This cannot be helped.
Truth be told, I have no idea how it is that I got into the music of
Pepper. Having been a big fan of ska and reggae during high school and college,
it makes sense that I should so easily connect with Pepper’s sound, but the
tale of how I happened to get my hands on a copy of their record Kona Town
is lost to the ages. Yet regardless of where it came from, that album was an
immediate phenomenon with me and my friends during college, and to this day
remains one of my absolute favorite albums.
You’d be hard-pressed to find a record that is more instrumentally
simple than Kona Town, but there is certainly no lack of imagination or
inspiration in its thirteen tracks.Every song is marked with a distinctly Kona flavor, but still Pepper dives into a range
of styles and sounds such as reggae, ska, punk rock, acoustic pop, and even
hip-hop. Kaleo Wassman’s rhythm guitar pieces lay back lazily into upstroke
chords, yet his solos often wail with a metal-tinged ferocity. Similarly, Yesod
Williams thrashes his drums in typical punk fashion for “Face Plant” before
cruising a very dub-fueled beat in “Tradewinds.” Their basic approach to
composition allows Pepper to sound tight and yet stay loose, letting their
rhythms and melodies move unencumbered to their audience.
While all three members of Pepper rock pretty damn hard, the most
compelling performances come from bassist Bret Bollinger. His powerful presence
on the bass steers many of the songs in energy, feel and emotion, and although singing
duties are split between him and Wassman, Bollinger’s soulful vocals, colored
with the accent of his Hawaiian homeland, really stand out as full and emphatic.
Bret Bollinger’s energetic presence and lively, emotional performances are what
drives Kona Town forward, reflecting an unbridled enthusiasm for his
music that is dangerously infectious.
Not unlike the instrumentation, Pepper’s lyrics on Kona Town
rarely waver from the simple and straight, but there is no shortage of thought
or variety to be found. Each piece receives a unique approach in its writing;
songs like “Face Plant” feature straightforward scenes, while “Dry Spell” and “Tongues”
follow a general theme without evolving into a true story. Similarly, “Stone
Love” and “The Office” only paint impressionistic images, using language more
to provide musicality than context. Pepper applies their lyrics like layers of
paint, giving some songs only a spritz while others receive multiple coats, a
tactic that allows the listener to not only slip into this Kona world, but also
to fill it with their own meaning and emotion.
Kona Town is a record that insists on making a lot out of a little, and Pepper
really manages to flesh a ton of love and feeling from these thirteen tracks.
There’s simply no way a general sweep could effectively encompass the magic
that this band has managed to produce, and so forgive me as I gush a little on
some great jams from one of my favorite records.
1.The Good
Thing
At less than 30 seconds long, “The Good Thing” is a little
ditty that softly launches Kona Town into orbit. Following a bout of
laughter and jeering, the members of Pepper collect themselves long enough to
stilt through a small song that rings like a radio station ID, introducing
their record and paying homage to their hometown of Kailua-Kona. While the tune itself offers some pretty solid vocal harmonies, more
importantly, it provides a candid glimpse at three friends whose focus is more
on making music they love and enjoy than presenting a serious façade. “The Good
Thing” sets the tone for the rest of the album, blatantly displaying the band’s
enthusiasm and interconnection, and kicking off the music proper with a
jubilant exclamation of “Let’s start this record!”
2.Stone
Love
Despite being the first song proper on Kona Town, “Stone Love” is
perhaps the most eccentric piece on the record in both shape and presentation.
On top of Williams’ shambling drum beat, Bollinger and Wassman sway through a
melodic riff in a dub-reggae feel that never quite makes it out of the background,
instead letting a very prominent keyboard take the musical stage. Similarly,
Wassman’s vocals seem to float in and out of the tune, taking the lead
sonically without communicating more than a general impression of being stoned.
His lyrics provide only vague context to the lazy instrumentation, thus
focusing his voice more as another instrument than a human presence. “Stove
Love” shows the whole band working to generate a feeling more than a specific
scene, effectively capturing in song an atmosphere of intoxication, using
instruments where words would say too much.
3.Dry Spell
With its driving bass line and distorted chorus, “Dry Spell” crosses
between lackadaisical ska and grinding rock across its four minutes. The verses
lay about in an apathetic groove and the choruses explode in frustrated fervor
as Wassman laments a period of lovelessness and listlessness. His lyrics
utilize much liquid imagery to describe his suffering, such as “Taking water
while the well is dry” and “Drifting on my piece of sorry, shattered
stubbornness,” lines which find their context in the title’s implied lack of a
sex life. Wassman’s desire for companionship has left him hungry and wanton, so
much so that he compares his leering to that of an evil spirit: “The devil’s always smiling when you pass by.” He even implies that he has sunk low enough
to seek the company of a prostitute with the line “What’s given, man I don’t
get for free.” In “Dry Spell,” Pepper manages with extreme subtlety to encapsulate
the frustration of a lonely man in their music, implied only using dynamic
changes and indirect language.
4.Face
Plant
Whereas the previous tune spends time crafting a delicate framework of
metaphor, “Face Plant” throws out all adornment and opts instead for
straightforward statements. The band pushes forward relentlessly at a speedy,
energetic tempo, while Bret Bollinger whines about being a friendless loser. The
enthusiasm of the instrumentation belies the utterly silly lyrical concept, yet
the band’s thrashing, simple execution manages to link perfectly with the
melancholy vocals. The crunchy palm mutes, root note basslines, and crashing
cymbals of “Face Plant” create a heady and heavy atmosphere completely devoid
of pomp, pushing instead the fun and facetious attitude that is Pepper.
5.Tradewinds
Exploding through the speakers from the get-go with a gargantuan drum
hit, “Tradewinds” then lilts down into the slow, beautiful dub beat that
defines the song. Williams’ drumming is sparse, Wassman’s chords even more so,
letting Bollinger’s flourished bass groove lead the song. The instrumentation
creates a rhythm reminiscent of lapping waves, lulling the ear into max
relaxation peppered through with gorgeous but gentle guitar picking and a
whirring organ.
With such a soothing sound, “Tradewinds” feels like the musical
personification of a tropical island, and indeed, Wassman’s lyrics seem to
imply that very idea. In describing his home state, Wassman says that “Hawaiii's a place of magic and connection. You are always influenced by it.” In this song, Wassman pines for his native land with lines like “Seems I’m always looking when I hear your name.” Though he sits now “in a train
station / traveling to an unknown destination,” his heart remains in Hawaii, a
land that will always “hold [him] close” even when the winds of the
future blow him elsewhere. “Tradewinds” is Pepper’s true ode to their home, a foil to the silly
opening track and the band’s way of sending their regards to their roots.
6.Stormtrooper
With its syncopated intro riff and marching instrumentation, “Stormtrooper”
is Pepper’s trudging condemnation of authority. The band lays back for this
one, handing the spotlight wholly to Bollinger's vocal, who tears at the ideas of
incorruptibility and omniscience with lines like “You think that we can’t see your face” and “You want a battle? Well don’t look very far.” While Bollinger’s
verses ring as stark condemnations if not threats, guest vocalist Josh Fischel
changes the tone in the third verse by peppering in references to Star Wars,
simultaneously adding a new dimension to the song and taking all the serious
air out of it. Amid the spacey atmosphere, “Stormtrooper” shows Pepper poking fun at
themselves, refusing to maintain a serious stance even for an entire song.
7.Ho’s
Easily my favorite jam from Kona Town, “Ho’s” jumps into a
sleazy, skank-worthy groove that demands movement from the listener. Bret
Bollinger weaves his walking bassline between the guitar and drums, flecking
his rhythm piece with musical filigrees that keep the piece beautiful while
imbuing it with a sick swagger. The band opts for a ska feel in this song that
is complemented by a clav key melody and completed with a zesty trumpet solo
and accompaniment.
Pepper’s instruments blend seamlessly in this musical masterpiece,
creating a delicious backdrop for Wassman’s soulful and sultry vocal.
Maintaining a deceivingly gentle cadence throughout, Kaleo begins posturing
brazenly as a virile man with “fifteen books on [his] story” who is quickly
overwhelmed by the mere sight of a woman. In pursuing his new fascination, he finds himself
enamored yet abandoned, asking “why am I so short of your attention?” only to
find he’s been marked off as a “one time slam.” With its deft melodies and enormous groove, “Ho’s” keeps me moving
even after it has faded out, and has been a staple in my live repertoire since
I first heard it.
8.B.O.O.T.
With its bluesy guitar progression and catchy chorus, “B.O.O.T.” is Kona
Town’s most confident tune, and perhaps the best example of the band
performing as a unit. Pepper effectively employs dynamics throughout the
composition, tiptoeing through quiet verses before jolting into a moving
chorus. Kaleo Wassman is cheeky and boastful in his lyrics, stating “the pleasure was all mine if it’s all the same” and even taking a direct shot at
Creed. The band uses the song as an opportunity to strut their stuff and
call out the haters, and as such, the syncopated hits in the pre-chorus hit like haymakers. “B.O.O.T.” cracks like a whip among the many gentler tunes on Kona
Town, and still leaves me reeling after each listen.
9.Give It
Up
Opening up instantly with an arrogant vocal line, “Give It Up” launches
itself into the ear with a hubris befitting the song. If the previous track
shows the band posturing as macho, this song takes it to the next level, albeit
in a very facetious manner. The music is predominantly loud, distorted, and
fast—the staples of testosterone-driven rock—pausing only to drop into a
ska-flavored chorus. In the lyrics, Bollinger again explores the plea for
physical love, but this time laden with the conceit of the overconfident,
virile male hunting for his next lay.
Wielding cheesy pick-up lines like “I’ve found my life purpose and it’s getting upstairs and into your bed,” Bollinger takes on the character of the
brash young man picking up chicks and tossing them aside; yet rather than celebrate such an obviously cruddy personality-type,
Pepper instead turns it over completely by embedding a skit into the song, in
which Bollinger’s character arrives home to find his girlfriend sleeping with
his father! When his “honey girl” (another shout-out to Hawaii) admits that she mistook the father for the son, she further slashes
at Bollinger’s pride, labeling both men as apparently interchangeable. In “Give
It Up,” Pepper rips on the misogynistic sex-fiends, embodying an archetypal
male just to tear him down, all in a hilarious and fun tune that is tailored
for laughs.
10.Sitting on the Curb
Another danceable and upbeat tune, “Sitting on the Curb” presents one
of Wassman’s best lyrical applications on top of upstroke guitar chords and a
returning trumpet. The song’s atmosphere is fun if not celebratory, and Wassman’s
melodies perpetuate the lighthearted energy that the song pushes, but the words
express almost the opposite concept, exploring the deep loss that accompanies a
lovers’ departure.
Wassman begins by describing the incredible wealth he once had,
stating “I remember those days when I had big money / never checked the price tag, it just all came to me.” The character starts with everything, yet now he
is destitute, “pinching every penny” and using the curb as a pillow. Wassman
starts by describing a material wealth and loss, but with remarkable control
and effectiveness, soon shifts the focus, until all he needs is “one response,
maybe a glance” from his ex-lover. Wassman expertly juxtaposes monetary and emotional loss in the lyrics
to “Sitting on the Curb,” articulating that in the end, the emotional loss is
far more painful than any lack of money could be.
11.Too Much
Another excellent example of dynamics, “Too Much” reflects Pepper’s
comprehensive understanding of space in songwriting. Across the entire tune,
the band alternates their energy, exploding through the syncopated intro just
to fall back to a simple verse drenched in reverb and echo. There is a ton of
negative space floating between notes in the body of the song; neither Bollinger’s
contemplative bassline nor his standoffish melody take precedence in the song,
instead standing back and letting what isn’t said ring loud in the listener’s
ear. The band keeps the energy in check until the very end, rocketing towards
the finish line with a distorted and melodious outro riff. As the first Pepper
tune I ever sampled, “Give It Up” caught my ear immediately with its efficient
dynamics and gripping vocal lines, inspiring me to pursue a record I would soon
come to adore.
12.Tongues
In sharp contrast to the rest of the record’s energetic and electric
pieces, “Tongues” unwinds as an acoustic ballad that features one of Bollinger’s
best vocal performances. The song proper is melancholy and cold, reflecting the
broken heart the lyrics embodies. Bret deftly wields his own tongue in the
song, reworking a couple of clichés to form the line “chop up your heart with my truthful tongue.” He begins at distance from his topic with the line “don’t touch me
girl until the song is done,” yet by the end he has regressed to longing and
loss, admitting that the “only thing I ever loved was you.” Riding out with a time signature change and triple vocal
counterpoint, “Tongues” hits harder than any other tune on Kona Town,
using only smart language choice and a mourning guitar to shape its message.
13.Office
“Office” seems like a paradoxical title for a song so relaxed and
anti-responsibility. For the length of the tune, the band lazily wanders
between a reggae groove and a tipsy, acoustic chorus, punctuated only by a
fuzzy guitar solo. The vocal is equally lethargic, rambling like a
drunken man celebrating his own inebriation, pushing the tune along without
adding flourish or flaunt. There is no fanfare at all to the song; the band
swirls in their sleepy jam and silly thoughts until they can no longer keep it
together. “Office” tries to prove nothing, but acts as a nightcap to a record
that sounds like a party, reveling in its own enjoyment before passing out on
the couch.
Despite the ostensibly compelling collection of songs that it holds, Kona
Town was initially derided upon its release for a lack of quality and originality. While the myriad comparisons to the work of Sublime are certainly
warranted, any similarities feel far more like products of a shared genre and
locale rather than plagiarism. A back-to-back listen to a track off Kona
Town and virtually any Sublime song will show far more differences than
parallels, stealing all credence from the piles of (poorlywritten and hardly researched) reviews that name Pepper as rip-offs.
In the same vein, the overall quality of the instrumentation,
composition and even sound quality on Kona Town hardly invites the
trashing it received. Although Yesod Williams’ drumming leaves a bit to be
desired (he plays the same drum fill in every song), there is a definite and
definable cohesion between the three members of Pepper, whose instruments
coalesce into monster grooves that feel as natural as breathing. In an
interview with Ink 19, Williams even owns the band’s simple approach: “We never consider ourselves technically good musicians. It’s more about the vibe.” The songs on Kona Town hold the friendship of these three
musicians at their core, the vibe that makes every tune bleed quarts honesty
and harmony. There is no pretense about the music of Pepper—it’s just three
dudes who, as Wassman puts it, are “enamored” of the music they make and the
experience of creating it; they offer nothing less, and we as listeners can hardly ask for more.
Above all the good and bad, Kona Town is simply a really fun
listen, and one that means a lot to me. I have performed covers of “Ho’s” live
more times than I can count, and many other songs off this record are included
in my repertoire. Each tune on Kona Town presents its own little slice
of life, and whether simple or complex, voracious or relaxing, it is always a
good time. This record started as the soundtrack to my undergraduate career,
but has stuck to me since; I don’t foresee it disappearing anytime soon, and I
wouldn’t give it up for anything.
