Liar by Built To Spill
From You In Reverse (Warner Brothers/2006)
Back when I was a manager at the Arborland Borders, a music staff member named Forest used to play BTS on the overhead sound system in the music department what seemed like all the time. While I did register how frequently he played them, I never really picked up on the music, especially since I never heard any complaints from customers or other staff members. A short time later, while working as an assistant buyer at the home office, I happened on a promotional copy of their live cd. Remembering Forest’s love for the band, I grabbed it and gave it a listen. Actually, I gave it many listens. I was hooked about halfway through track one. Never mind that singar/axeman Brett Martsch has one of those high whiny voices (the fact of the matter is that I seem to be drawn to that sort of just-barely-in-tune guy-warble; see: Loud Family), the band rocked. Martsch’s guitar playing is sinewy and athletic without being guitar god stoopid, and their drummer, Scott Plouf, formerly of the late great Spinanes, pounded those skins into abject submission. Ignore the fact that their songs can stretch into 8-minute territory. The band stays tight and the tunes always have that pop-thing to them. If they do wank a little, they rarely seem to do it just for the sake of wanking (though God knows there’s nothing wrong with that if you can pull it off).
When I think about it now, the only music playing on those sound systems I spent so many years walking under that really ever registered with me sucked. It’s a wonder I lasted as long as I did.
From You In Reverse (Warner Brothers/2006)
Back when I was a manager at the Arborland Borders, a music staff member named Forest used to play BTS on the overhead sound system in the music department what seemed like all the time. While I did register how frequently he played them, I never really picked up on the music, especially since I never heard any complaints from customers or other staff members. A short time later, while working as an assistant buyer at the home office, I happened on a promotional copy of their live cd. Remembering Forest’s love for the band, I grabbed it and gave it a listen. Actually, I gave it many listens. I was hooked about halfway through track one. Never mind that singar/axeman Brett Martsch has one of those high whiny voices (the fact of the matter is that I seem to be drawn to that sort of just-barely-in-tune guy-warble; see: Loud Family), the band rocked. Martsch’s guitar playing is sinewy and athletic without being guitar god stoopid, and their drummer, Scott Plouf, formerly of the late great Spinanes, pounded those skins into abject submission. Ignore the fact that their songs can stretch into 8-minute territory. The band stays tight and the tunes always have that pop-thing to them. If they do wank a little, they rarely seem to do it just for the sake of wanking (though God knows there’s nothing wrong with that if you can pull it off).
When I think about it now, the only music playing on those sound systems I spent so many years walking under that really ever registered with me sucked. It’s a wonder I lasted as long as I did.
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