There are folks that just have songs dump out of ‘em, wind up on paper and are summarily turned into songs. Some people wind up with more songs and words to sing than their bands are able to grasp and find it necessary to go it alone. That’s not necessarily the case with Paleface – in fact it may have worked backwards. Gaining a modicum of notoriety during the early ‘90s afforded this one man act a slot on a major label for a time prior to being dismissed in the wake of other acts ostensibly working in the same vein. But subsequent to that, and apparently a close brush with liver failure, Paleface reconvened his musical activities, this time occasionally making use of more than just a guitar.
I was getting a ride from a friend in Cleveland. She was chauffeuring me to the inimitable MegaBus for the six hour trek back to Chicago. It’s better and worse than it sounds. Regardless, as we headed down a main thorofare on the east side, the cd we were listening to got switched out. But before stating what got tossed in, it needs to be figured that while this chick/woman/girl is without question one of my closest friends, her taste in music is pretty questionable. Anyway, she tossed on Animal Collective. I was kinda surprised.
mmm... Fruit Bats... allow me to suckle the nectar of thy sweet new tunes. Thou art the joy of my easy listening, open breasted smiling afternoons, playing out your tender harmonies, soft and gay across the room. Eric D. Johnson, you are a total babe. I never really noticed until today, when I read that you will play The Crocodile this August 20, 2009 with Palmer Electric Co. formerly known as Palmer, AK.
For the last hour I have been grooving to your new album on Pitchfork and clicking around this great big internet, trying to understand... just what kind of person makes songs as great as these, and who is his band? (Graeme Gibson, Chris Sherman, Ron Lewis, Sam Wagster) They say you've been with Sub Pop for some time and that you moonlight in The Shins and Vetiver and now you've written a new album and it couldn't be more better-er.
I really can’t explain why I haven’t seen a laudatory review of Solo Electric Bass 1 anywhere. I found it kinda hard to dislike. And since I’m not a huge fan of Squarpusher’s (b.k.a. Tom Jenkinson) other work, I would have guessed that there’d be all kinds of electro fans singing the praises of a dude who can twiddle knobs to various affect and actually play an instrument. And when I say, ‘play an instrument,’ I mean, ‘he wails.’ This is detached from the rest of the Squarepusher discography, but in that lays the album’s charm. This could have turned out pretty poorly, but thankfully it didn’t.