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Issue
#74
May '05
We have named May
“Lost” month, not for the TV series and not
for driving purposes, but for an anomaly of factions. Factions as
diverse as youth, and
the helpless feeling of being lost in transition. Emotion, and the
overwhelming impact it
can have when lost in it. Age, and the stranded feeling of lost youth.
Life, and how lost
within it you can actually find yourself. Society, and how whether or
not you are a part
of an accepted sect, or one oblivious to the masses, you can still be
lost amid the
population. The soul, and how each one of us can experience the
earth-shattering, sinking
feeling of hopelessness, that we are alone in our individual journey of
heart, mind, and
self.
To that, we offer up an
almost mid-year resolution to that which has been
gnawing at you – or should I say us, because yes, there is a
correlation to the fact
that these words/views/insights are being parlayed your way by a
mid-forty-ish product of
the “lost” generation of the 70’s. Who,
at the moment, is in the
“May” of his life and is still attempting to chart
a solid course on the
“Lost” directions of life. Rock-n-Roll is in
it’s “May” of life,
and while to many it is all but “Lost,” we say it
is simply crossing into the
timeless category where it can no longer be claimed to be solely the
rebellion of youth,
but the charted direction of (mid) life. When you’re 17
it’s called rebellion,
when you’re 45 it’s called a mid-life crisis, when
17 = 45 it’s called the
convergence of time, and Rock-n-Roll now provides both sets with
directions.
In the up coming months
IndepenDisc will be celebrating the immense
diversity that Rock-n-Roll/music has grown into throughout the years
and all the different
sets of directions it now gives to help us all, be it youth, or matured
adult, get to the
point we are all looking for - the 3-4 minutes of bliss that can also
be translated into a
journey of LP’s length and worth to help us overcome, no
matter how temporary or
momentary it may be, to help us find that particular spot/moment in
time/life where we are
no longer lost, where we have found our purpose, our salvation, our
Shangri-La. To get
things started this month we have a double issue Featuring Lost Forty
Fives and Lost Weekend
(now you can see where all this
“Lost” reflection and sentimentation is coming from
;-).
In The
Art of Wasting Time, Lost Weekend
gives us the opportunity to take the
time we need for a little R&R (that’s rest and
relaxation, and rock and roll),
the time to have a lost weekend where we can enjoy the music.
Sometimes a person can
get so lost amid what they do that they can fail at
what they do without even realizing it. One of my favorite commentaries
on that particular
subject is a skit David Spade did on Saturday Night Live during the
Weekend Update portion
of the show. The skit was called “Spade On
Hollywood” and it was a take on a TV
magazine show such as Entertainment Tonight, and he would just skewer
everyone. As soon as
I began to listen to The Art of Wasting Time,
one of Spade’s taglines ran through my head, except I was
directing it at Lost Weekend.
(Picture the
cover art at the top right hand corner of your screen
[or
scroll up to see it] of a foggy morning
on a beach where a
girl sits upon a log of driftwood, her back to us,
puffin’ a butt
and holding either a coffee or a beer in hand [either works
just
fine] and I [David Spade] stating):
“The Art of Wasting Time is the debut CD by the Atlanta,
GA
band Lost Weekend. Now I won’t say it was an art
of wasting
my time, because I loved this the first time I heard
it… (…long
pause, wait for it, wait for it…and then the
punch line)…when it
was called R.E.M.”
- rimshot -
And what seemed to be
lost was found (or some famous quote like that). I
ignored the immediate stereotype I flaked off in a somewhat
subconscious manner, and
proved it to be blatantly wrong. Had I been listening at an i-tunes
pace I never
would’ve found myself on a road that would lead to an amazing
set of music by Scott Roberts, who
through a beautiful writing
ability, is able to marry lyrics of a variety of situations with the
music, in such a
manner that conveys emotions with heartfelt accuracy. Used within a
solid, early R.E.M.
sound of heavy stringing electro-acoustic rhythm and striped down
intensified lead guitar
that soars, hobbles, slides, and dances around the vocals to create a
chilling (and I mean
sends chills down the spine), unambiguous use of bluegrass inspired
instrumentation, it is
a refreshing slice of alt. inspired americana. Where Out of Time era
R.E.M found no
trouble blending mandolin, Lost Weekend
brings
the banjo to the table and rocks the house with it. – (Side
Note: do not overlook
track 6, the instrumental [which does not contain a banjo] “Hey, You Kids,
Get Out Of My Yard! (GrandDad’s Theme),”
for a slice of Herny Mancini
spirited retro 60s sound saturation that uses heavy fuzz guitars to
play the horn parts )
– Diving deep into these directions that seemed familiar, I
found a treasure trove of
an artist and his purpose in life: bringing the joy of music to our
lives.
If we had an evening to
sit back and enjoy a few cocktails & beers,
and pop on The Art of Wasting Time,
we could
sit and dissect it song by song, because it is that type of album, one
that allows you to
escape for a few hours (when multiple playings are possible) to find
the joys not only in
the lyrics (and damn catchy ones when set to the music, hooky enough to
have you singing
full verses with ease while the overall theme of the composition
remains just out of
grasp, and yet we know we connect because the musical mood set forth on
any one of these
11 forays is just so perfect, what we feel must be the tone and subject
of each), but also
in the afore mentioned spot on musical instrumentation as well.
I can go no further than
one of the best trio of songs within an LP; Endless Summer, No-Win Situation,
and Almost Alison are one
of the best combos
that have come down the pike in a while now. Starting with track 3, Endless Summer, Scott (vocals, guitars, bass, mandolin,
harmonica, and more) and Mike Joswick
(drums)
are joined by whom I assume to be Scott’s wife, Sheri Roberts. It is her dreamy vocals
floating
atop a serious bass line that makes this song rise like cream to the
top. Sheri’s
soft wispy velvet voice works off Scott’s octave switching
roles as the story plays
out in the contrasting deliveries of the male/female vocals. This
recitation of the
lyrics, as poetic as any put to verse, provides delivery of the
CD’s title, which to
me is an indicator of how important this track is to the album
– “I know nothing lasts
forever / if it did / we’d
lose the / Art of Wasting Time.” It’s a
classic summer romance break-up
tale, detailed in two contrasting emotions, as represented in the
male/female vocals and
layered harmonies both within a classic down and dirty bass that leads
us past the Beach
parties and into mortality. No matter how many times we hear it,
Roberts naming this song Endless
Summer
pulls no punches.
Something to think about
there, but, wham, No-Win
Situation
hits us. What we have here is the culmination of everything that can
converge to create
magic. This song includes the perfect words delivered with emotional
charges at all the
perfect points. Ringing guitar notes shower down heavy rhythm
strummin’, carrying
each stanza and chorus, and when Scott hits the couplets within this
stanza:
“There’s
no room for me in
this…………. /
watch me while I
reminisce……………..
/
I can’t talk about it now /
simple words would not allow
…………me /
to say the way I feel /
and it all seems so unreal
in
this no-win situation”
(look, he
rhymes “allow” with “now,” even
though “me” finishes
the line before he moves to the next line, yet the music
composition that engulfs these lyrics carries it off to where
anybody can sing right through it in harmony, it’s
that perfect),
the music carries it
home. Again with the direct R.E.M. influence, but now
it’s easy to shake off the prejudicial, reviewer snob
personality, point of view
because damn if this song doesn’t champion over it all. While
it is another break-up
song, it doesn’t have to be exclusive to relationships
because it is somewhat
dedicated to the moment (any moment). Of course, the best is saved for
the last stanza:
“There’s
no room for me in
this………….no /
“There’s no room for me in
this…………. /
I can’t talk about it now /
and I never will know how /
to explain the things I need /
yes it’s time that I concede /
to
this no-win situation”
But he hasn’t
given in. You can tell by the soaring chime of the
tireless rhythm rising over and above, that he’s defying
everything, and it’s
because of the music that we feel so happy for him and for us. Then the
banjo on Almost Alison starts
a plunking and
chinking courtesy of Kevin Glenn
straight outta
what seems like a Honky-Tonk juke joint and we are thrust from our
situation headlong into
a country song that should not be labeled
“country.” In fact, Almost
Alison is so bluegrass that the current state
of country music should be
embarrassed by this song. A good ole southern fried tale of a post
break-up hook-up in a
bar over a number of beers as our protagonist is wanting to go for it,
even though…
“And you’re not the one /
I should be
talking to / but tonight you’ll just have to do /
Couldn’t feel this way / about
just anyone / but you’re almost Alison / you are almost Alison”
Take that
country music, everyone in Nashville
would be singing this song if were in the juke boxes.
That’s the way
this entire set of music is handed down to us. It
serves a lesson that we must fight our preconceived notions and musical
snobbery, that
just because something sounds like something else, doesn’t
make it a bad thing. Nor,
just because it has been done before does not mean it should be lost to
our appreciation.
Because it may be being done now in such a way that it is again fresh
and new and as
exciting as it all was when we were first exposed to it. Perfect
examples: Constantly
Away
- this is the way I wish Wilco sounded more like. More country-ish with
a deep backbeat. Places
Where I
Don’t Belong - drips mood rock on the
edge, a fragile sound that appeals to a
more reflective state than any that Michael Stipe attempted. I’ll Be
Back - one of the best reworking of a Beatles song
that anyone’s had the guts
to try, and also lends itself to a personification of genres that is
quite remarkable.
And quite remarkable is
what The
Art of Wasting Time by Lost Weekend
is.
Take a little time for some R&R, have a lost weekend, enjoy the
music, allow the music
to find you, and learn to find what may have been lost.
The Art of Wasting
Time by Lost
Weekend
is available now for $9.98 + s/h*
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