I still buy music. I might not buy a lot of music, but, it's mostly because I can't afford to. So I take a few things into account when I let myself loose in a record store:
One, the packaging. Buying music isn't often about the actual sound as much as it is about what the album art looks like. If the album art is shit, drab, inconsequential, then you might as well download the album because you're not missing the tangible artwork. So as I browse, a checker boarded Jaws-like shark ferociously emerging from the water lures me over. It's Surfer Blood's Astro Coast.
Two, recommendation. Was the album heralded by countless blogs and the most stringent of critics? Well, Astro Coast did get a 8.2 by Pitchfork and is in the Amoeba "We Recommend" section. I now stand face to face with an impending purchase.
Three, to support the artist. I could just go home and download this for free. But what about the cover. Cover? Who cares about that shit...free is free, effortless, no decision, no consequence, freeeeeeee.
As I hold a Burbank Label copy of Van Morrison's Hard Nose the Highway and have this weirdly overzealous conversation with my purchasing conscience, I pick up Astro Coast; and not pick up like actually buy it, but just pick it up, hold it in my hands, look at it, feel its weight, debate the risk vs. reward... This is $15 I'm never going to get back. Will Astro Coast give back?
This might seem melodramatic, if it wasn't a serious consideration. Lets face it, buying things these days is hard. I only buy yellow tagged items when I go grocery shopping . Oh I can save 60 cents on a bottle of salad dressing. DONE! So when I barely can squeeze out 2 bucks for Hidden Valley over the store brand (forget Newman's Own), $15 for a piece of art seems like a guilt in-fueling luxury. I place the album back on the rack.
But, look at this art work...I haven't seen cover art like this in a while, Amoeba recommends it, even Pitchfork didn't banish it, not to mention I would be totally hypocritical if I didn't buy it seeing as the only reason I am buying Hard Nose the Highway is because its front cover is of an astonished, salvation seeking Japanese shepherd looking towards the celestial night with cows made of stars behind him and on the reverse cover a portrait of Van Morrison poised in thought with an astronaut-point-of-view-sized moon serving as a backdrop. And of course what about the artists man, think about the artists (in a blown away, last breath before entering total enlightenment)...the artistsssss.
So I buy it. That wasn't so hard. Hard Nose the Highway and Astro Coast...that'll be $30 dollars. $30 dollars! Easy enough. Do I need a bag? I don't need no stinking bag. But for $30 dollars I'll take two. One for each purchase.
I get into the car, open it up, and am further impressed by the packaging. When you lift up the disc its reveals the jewel case background of an elderly couple sitting beneath an umbrella on the beach looking out on crashing waves. This coupled with the front cover of a ferocious shark gets my analytical juices flowing. What lives beneath the ocean surface? Of course lots of marine life...but, most pertaining to the Surfer Blood's name and cover art...the shark. The two packaging elements of the cover art and jewel case background contrasts. One's violent the other calm. Are the artists themselves eluding that their music like the effects of their packaging exudes a sound that feels like there is some danger, something darker beneath the surface. Will there be a contrast of sounds that are eloquently balanced to create the optimum music experience? Was this worth the 15 bucks?
No such luck. Surfer Blood's Astro Coast is not a shabby record, however, as an album it lacks a certain depth. Astro Coast has some juggernauts but not 10 of them nor $15 worth. "Swim" was the first single to hit the web and is a huge echoing anthem. It plays with catchy guitar riffs straight from '94, an island shuffle, and vocal production that is more Detroit Rock City than Vampire Weekend. I can see the mic getting turned on the crowd for the chanting "swim to reach the end." "Slow Jabroni" or "#8" (as I like to call it..."put on number eight!") epitomizes my original expectations and hence I consider it the lynchpin of the album. #8 is lazy and hazy with sweet falsetto vocals, layered over a drudge guitar, and loose string bass. It channels the feeling of insomnia or the worst rainy day hangover. But this is merely the beginning because upon the lyrical ultimatum "take some time to figure out, cause if you don't you're gonna do with out" a more pleasant tone is brought to surface. The Ibuprofen kicks in, the rain stops, the clouds lift, the road shines, you car is clean, and lead singer, John Paul Pitts, sings so lightly something so heavy in meaning, "there are no praises that are left to sing. There's just a wilderness of shame. If I knew you'd push away so savagely, then I'd back off. So take it easy on me, take it easy on me, take it easy on me." A true contrast of tone that eludes to something existing beneath the surface. Likened to all the things unsaid, the underlying agenda or feelings that embody the disenchantment that comes at the end of a relationship; #8 is the aural execution of this subtext.
Overall, Surfer Blood is awesome. They put forth a strong record full of moments. Perhaps it's my current financial rigidity that puts so much pressure on an album or just that everyone these days can only afford life changing experiences. And for that I tell myself, "hey buddy, cut these Surfer Blood dudes some slack." I do. I have. I've worn out Astro Coast on the most recent El Nino-Los Angeles, murky and overcast days...simply to drive to, not to change lives. However, just know you can skip the two bag trip, and buy numbers two and eight.
Surfer Blood:: Swim (to reach the end)
Surfer Blood:: Floating Vibes
