Rustic Charm
Review: Two Gallants, Two Gallants (Saddle Creek)

If there’s a knock on Two Gallants, it’s that all their music sounds the same.

It’s an easy, lazy statement to make. It’s also easy to prove. Take someone who’s never heard the band before and play a typical track from The Throes, their 2004 debut on Alive Records. Follow that with a song from Where the Toll Tells, their 2006 Saddle Creek Records debut, and one from this, their new eponymously titled follow-up. Now ask your test subject how the three vary musically and lyrically. First, they’ll assume they all came from the same album; next they’ll ask (eagerly) if all their songs sound like this. The answer, of course, is yes.

Like I said, it’s an easy knock, and it’s not fair, really. Two Gallants, the San Francisco duo of singer/guitarist Adam Stephens and drummer Tyson Vogel, have crafted a unique sound that feels like a cross between ’60s blues-rock, “The House of the Rising Sun” and modern-day pirate songs. Stephens’ craggy voice and rolling, picking’ electric guitar bend the music over Vogel’s bright, almost militaristic syncopated marching-band percussion. The result is a slice of turn-of-the-(20th)-Century Americana merged with Delta blues and indie rock.

At the center of it all is Stephens’ travelin’ I-miss-my-woman lyrics that sound just as comfortable sung on the Slowdown stage as on the deck of a storm-battered clipper or behind the reigns of a covered wagon. A typical verse from opener “The Deader” sums it up nicely:

Oh now the raging sea she laps upon my door
I’ll round a thousand horns just to drown upon her shore
Blood red roses go down Moses oh billowing sails
Those so weak-willed guts all sea-filled throw them o’er the rails

Aye, matey! Their style hasn’t budged from day one, but that said, of the three albums, this is the one to own. Gone are the 8- and 9-minute ballads heard on early releases that seemed to go on forever. None of these nine tracks reach the 6-minute mark. That effort to economize, and the shift from rousing ballads to dark, ominous death tales, like “Fly Low Carrion Crow,” make this the most varied and sonically broad record of their career. Within one song, the closer “My Baby’s Gone,” the music travels from deep, underwater, slow motion to emerge with a strut on dry land, Stephens testifying, “I go where cold winds don’t blow / I go where nobody goes,” before pulling back down to elegy pace for a repeated, pained whisper of “My baby’s gone,” that turns into an inspiring battle cry.

So maybe they have been singing the same song for years. I guess that would be a problem if that song weren’t so damn good.

Rating: Yes

Beautiful Loser
Review: The Good Life, Help Wanted Nights (Saddle Creek)

Forget the fact that this is supposed to be the soundtrack to a film penned by singer/songwriter renaissance frontman Tim Kasher. You and I haven’t seen the movie, which may or may not ever get made.

The fact is, all of The Good Life’s music is theatrical at its very core. Their last record, 2004’s Album of the Year, could have been used in a moody, off-off-Broadway musical, each song telling a boy-meets-girl, boy-loses-girl story of love and betrayal, all with a single broken heart. In Kasher’s world, the loser protagonist always is well-written and clearly defined. It’s the antagonist (presumably a composite of every woman who Kasher ever slept with) that could use a little more character development. They can’t all be heartless bitches, can they Tim? Maybe they can.

Help Wanted Nights tells that same lonely story all over again, but simpler, easier and with more clarity. Our hero once again is the slouching, insecure, slightly damaged loser we’ve all come to love — the antithesis of every horny fuck-and-run cocksman you remember from your favorite ’80s hair-band.

Kasher’s men are rarely in control in any relationship, having either just been dumped or are about to be, but never destined for happiness except for that short-lived moment of a one-night stand that precedes a cold-light-of-day reality that it won’t be anything more than that. In Kasher’s world, it’s the women who are the cocksman, always in a hurry to leave that familiar so-so gigolo the next morning.

Take the soft-shoe opener, where Kasher pines, “Either you love me or you leave me but don’t you leave me on this picket fence,” or the bouncy, bass-driven “Heartbroke,” where our hero suffers Joe Jackson-inspired frustration when he realizes his ex is already getting some. “I see you’ve found a way to pass the time,” he says. Her reply: “I like him, he’s a lot like you.” Ouch.

Musically, Kasher and Co. take the simpler-is-better route, stripping songs to the very basics of melody, counter-melody and rhythm (with a guitar solo thrown in for good measure). Each shortish tune ends simply, concisely, without any over-the-top flourishes. Good thing, too, because too much drama would have pushed these lyrics into rather maudlin territory.

Taken as a whole, the CD is the least cluttered of anything Kasher has ever recorded, either with this band or Cursive, revealing a level of song craft that all-too-often can get lost in the din. Its very simplicity is a lesson that his pal and label mate Conor Oberst could benefit from.

In some ways, the collection is a throwback to simpler, better times, when songs were three minutes or less and recorded to be heard on your FM radio instead of a computer. All of them, that is, except for the 10-minute-plus closer, where Kasher asks yet another potential lover, “What are you really after? / What are you hoping to gain?” Chances are, it’s not you, pal, or your droning feedback that buzzes for three minutes after the last organ tones fade, presumably to allow for all the end credits to scroll across the screen.

Help Wanted Nights is a thinking man’s (and woman’s) pop album, a collection of tragic love stories where the hero doesn’t get the girl because, well, he’s just no damn good, and in Tim Kasher’s world, there are no happy endings. But I could be wrong. After all, I haven’t seen the movie.

Rating: Yes

Column 142: For Against Again
The seminal Lincoln band is reborn.

There’s a lot of For Against information to get to, but I don’t want to bury the most important piece of data, which is that the seminal Lincoln band will be playing at The Waiting Room this Saturday night — their first Omaha performance in over a decade.

It dawned on me while as I was driving to Lincoln Sunday afternoon to interview the two core members of the band — singer and chief songwriter Jeff Runnings and guitarist/keyboardist Harry Dingman III — that most people who read this column may not be familiar with For Against. After all, their (first) heyday was back in the late ’80s and early ’90s. And even then, For Against didn’t exactly fit into a Lincoln scene that included bands like Mercy Rule and Sideshow.

“I don’t think For Against in the ’80s felt like a part of the Lincoln scene at all,” Dingman said. “We played benefit shows and shows with other bands, but we did our own thing and had our own audience, and they had their audiences.”

The separation makes sense considering that while SST-style punk was all the rage in Omaha and Lincoln, For Against was making 4AD/Factory Records-style Euro-pop that bordered on today’s version of electronic dance music. Their sound was directly influenced by ’80s and ’90s-era European post-punk from bands like Durutti Column, Joy Division, Gang of Four and Kitchens of Distinction. The trio, which included drummer Gregory Hill, combined droning, chiming guitars, buzzing synths, and machine-precise percussion with Runnings’ hollow, ghostly voice. The result was both bleak and intensely danceable, and can be heard echoed in modern bands like Interpol, Editors and The Faint (who, if they ever get their new album recorded, would be wise to bring them along on tour).

A brief history: The trio began performing in Lincoln in 1985. After self-releasing a 7-inch, the band signed with Independent Projects Records (IPR) and released its debut full-length, Echelons, in 1987. They went on a brief US tour, then recorded their follow-up, December, in 1988, and afterward, unceremoniously broke up, just as things were getting interesting.

“Capitol was interested in the band,” Dingman said. “I started thinking that maybe something could happen. I wasn’t planning on leaving. Greg had already left, and I wasn’t sure of my role in the band, and really… I don’t know.” He paused for a moment. “It’s hard to say why people do what they do. That was almost 20 years ago.”

Dingman went on to join The Millions with Hill before he and his wife eventually moved to Ft. Collins, Colorado. Runnings continued For Against with new personnel, releasing four more records before the project petered out in 2002.

Then in 2003, Dingman and his wife returned to Lincoln. “I called Jeff a couple of times and he didn’t return my calls. We hadn’t said more than ‘Hi’ to each other in 16 years.”

“I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it again,” Runnings said.

“And Jeff probably felt burned,” Dingman added.

Runnings nodded his head. “We were young, back then,” he said, reflecting on the break-up. “Harry and I had ideas and I was being very headstrong. So was Greg.” Eventually, Dingman found himself in Runnings’ living room, and the two decided that For Against should live again.

“I think we both realized we had grown up,” Runnings said.

But a funny thing happened in their absence. For Against had quietly become big… in Europe. “We have this song called ‘Amen Yves’ that only came out on vinyl, but that DJs throughout Europe have been playing for years,” Dingman said. “We thought the Internet was fueling the resurgence in our popularity, but it was actually coming from the dance clubs.”

Since reforming, both Echelons and December have been reissued by Minneapolis-based indie label Words on Music, who also just rereleased In the Marshes, a recording originally released as a 10-inch by IPR in 1990 that includes that dance hit, “Amen Yves.” And, early next year, Words on Music will release Shade Side, Sunny Side, For Against’s 7th studio album, and the first one to feature Dingman since December.

Until then, the band will continue touring. They’ve already toured Greece last spring, and are headed to Spain for the Tanned Tin Festival in Castelló this November, thanks in part to Spanish label Acuarela Discos, who will be releasing a new For Against EP next year. A full European tour is slated for early ’08. “Europe is simply where our fan base is,” Runnings said. “We’ve had offers to play in Rome, Berlin, Amsterdam, Athens and all points in between.”

The U.S., it seems, will have to wait. Fortunately, both have lives that bend easily to tour schedules. Runnings works at Lincoln’s Homer’s, while Dingman stays home with his 18-month-old daughter and teaches guitar. At 45 and 43 respectively, Runnings and Dingman aren’t letting their age slow them down.

“I don’t see being older as being an issue,” Runnings said. “You look at a lot of groups our age right now, and they don’t seem to be getting shit heaped on them. Bands like REM and Guided by Voices, even though they’re older, they’re still relevant. That’s all that matters.”

It was crazy madhouse packed at The Waiting Room last night for Okkervil River. So packed, in fact, it was hard to enjoy the show. The band was plenty loud enough, and played a fine collection of songs, but I couldn’t focus on the show. Too many people. In fact, it was too packed to stand in the stage room, though I tried for a short time until someone lifted their girlfriend onto the wall that juts out by the merch table, blocking my view completely. It wasn’t as if I could just move somewhere else, so I escaped to watch the rest of the show from the back of the bar, where two local musicians waved me over and asked what I thought of the band.

Uh, well what do you guys think of the band? They immediately went into a list of descriptions that included words and phrases like “derivative” and “I’ve heard this before” and “I can’t even hear the guitar” and “One Conor is more than enough,” and so on. I said, “Well, I’ve been covering this band for five or six years and they’re one of my all-time favorites. I’m serious.” I think they thought I was kidding. Fact was, neither of them had ever heard of Okkervil River (more solid evidence of Lazy-i’s all-encompassing readership) and didn’t understand what they had that was so special; special enough to sell out The Waiting Room.

Which got me to wondering just how Okkervil River did generate such a large following in Omaha, a town where their music has never been heard broadcast on any radio station or television (They don’t even have videos on Subterranean on MTV2). Sure, they’ve played in Omaha at least four times in the past, but I was at all of those shows, beginning with the 10-person draw at The Junction all the way to the Sokol Underground show last year that drew maybe 150. Yet here was a crowd much larger than that (caution prevents me from giving you an actual crowd estimate), consisting of people actively singing along with most of the songs throughout their hour-long set. There were even a couple frat guys screaming “I love you Will” from the back of the bar. This couldn’t have been the result of being on Conan O’Brien a couple weeks ago. Very strange indeed.

The show itself was hit and miss. The sound was muddy both from in front of the stage and back by the bar (probably hindered by the wall of humanity that acted as a natural sound buffer). Frontman Will Sheff seemed thrilled to be playing to such a large, loving audience, as did the rest of the band. The crowd went ga-ga over the opening chords of “For Real” and “Westfall” and even a couple songs from their new album. Sheff looked out of control at times, presumably lost in the moment, his voice characteristically falling off pitch as he pushed himself above the rest of the band. The best moments were the quieter, more controlled ballads, including a couple he played solo to start off his encore. If this is any indication of how Okkervil River is greeted for the rest of this tour, their days of riding in a van instead of a tour bus are numbered.

A reminder about tonight’s shows…

Over at The Waiting Room it’s the broken beer-bottle rock of The Filter Kings opening for The Mercurys. $7, 9 p.m. Down at Slowdown Jr. its Besnard Lakes (not Besnard Snakes as I accidentally reported yesterday, though my version of their name sounds better) with Starvin’ Hungry and Baby Walrus (get there early to catch these guys). $10, 9 p.m.

Finally, I got an e-mail from Mick at SLAM Omaha telling me that Harrah’s is desperately giving away tickets to tonight’s Kings of Leon/Black Rebel Motorcycle Club show at Stir’s Concert Cove in Council Bluffs. Tickets originally were going for $25. A link to the coupon page is available at slamomaha.com.

–Got comments? Post ’em here.—

I don’t go to Lincoln often. Hell, I don’t really go to Lincoln at all, but last night offered a good excuse: Cursive (part 2). The show at Slowdown was great. It was nice to see the band play in that beautiful room with the immaculate sound system. But having the opportunity to see them again the following night, a mere hour away at Knickerbockers, was too much to pass up. The night started on a good note — running into Ted Stevens on the corner before the show, he told me that the band would be playing four new songs during their set (as opposed to only one played in Omaha). Four? Apparently, the band learned eight songs last week that could potentially be on the next album.

Their set started feverishly and kept the momentum all the way through. The band sounded more relaxed and muscular than they had the previous night. The crowd was eager and attentive, which kept the new songs from falling on deaf ears (the second of which is going to be stellar when finished, by the way). Frontman Tim Kasher maintained his between-song antics with a story about his current body odor, something to the effect of “anus sweat” due to “pumping iron.”

All in all, I was able to witness two stellar shows back to back by the best band to come from Omaha. As I drove back to town, I made a few observations: First, Kasher’s voice has never sounded better. One would think that after years of screaming night after night on tour his vocal chords would be shot. Not the case at all. Second, Cursive is a band that thrives in smaller venues. They can sell to capacity at big venues and put on a hell of show doing it, but there is nothing like seeing them in a room that is arm-to-arm, hot as hell and full of energy. And last, the next album (whenever it happens) is going to keep the tradition of being another amazing release. — Brendan Greene-Walsh