w/Dear John Letters, the Marazene Heartbeat Clock
Sat Aug 2, Sunset, 9 pm, $6.
I'll never forget playing a Joseph Arthur CD for someone in his early 20s and hearing him respond, "I bet my dad would like this." Same thing with Matthew Sweet--I still think Girlfriend is a great album, but I feel like an old fogy for saying so, because I once got a stinkeye withering enough to rival my own when I suggested to someone several years younger than me that Sweet wrote good pop songs. Christ, it's not like I was citing John Tesh's oeuvre or anything.
Well, excuse me while I get out my little can of Doan's pills, but Downpilot's new album, Leaving Not Arriving, reminds me of a slowed-down Matthew Sweet record, and its tracks about relationships are moving in a quiet sort of way. Paul Hiraga's songs are nostalgic and steeped in confusion unabated by an admitted hindsight: The lyric "I have tried this before/Shouldn't be so difficult/You shouldn't be here at all" (from "Everyday Dream of the West") illustrates perfectly how some lovers never stop throwing out the baby with the bathwater, despite having learned the lesson that doing so leaves you with nothing. "My Sunshine" follows suit as Hiraga sings, "You are my sunshine/to shine on all of this downtime/You make this Sunday/just a little less gray," before the tune reveals he's pining for a sun that has already set.
The music is by turns jovial and ponderous, carefully produced by Tucker Martine and filled out by Anne Marie Ruljancich's backing vocals and violin. Ruljancich's presence (along with the weary horn sounds and well-placed glockenspiel chimes) makes me think of Come's Near Life Experience and the Walkabouts' 1997 release Nighttown; a certain grittiness comes through on Leaving Not Arriving, a darkness marked by a maturity that takes years on the planet to acquire, not just bleak happenstance.
Leaving Not Arriving is the second release from BlueDisguise Records, the first having been Visqueen's fast-selling debut, King Me. Downpilot probably won't resonate as strongly with the kids, but anyone past 26 can find something within Leaving Not Arriving that strikes a chord of recollection. Anyone younger--hey, your dad might like it.
