 illustration by Jason Stout |
chronologist’s dire need for some sort of working definition, creative energy
isn’t kind enough to stand still for a snapshot. It’s like a virus that
re-invents itself just when you think you’ve got it all figured out.
Nevertheless, when you listen carefully, there’s no denying that a stylistic
shift of undetermined significance is taking place in the annals of the Texas
music underground.
Which brings us to “Space Rock,” a catch-all term that bands shy away from
quicker than you can say “New Sincerity.” Sure, categorization can be confining
and at times misleading, but then, how confining is “space”? Whatever you
choose to call it, a goodly number of up-and-coming acts in Texas have muscled
their way to the stage with an expansive and exploratory form of music that
doesn’t quite reside in the same universe as older staple genres like
collegiate pop and snotty garage punk.
More and more bands are oozing forth with an unbridled enthusiasm for
phase-shifters, feedback, and free-form song structure. Though many of these
bands are future-forward in their outlook, there’s a near-universal
appreciation for the work of their progressive forbears; they point to recent
acts like My Bloody Valentine, Stereolab, Mercury Rev, and Low (see
“Roadkill”). Others find inspiration in the late Sixties/early Seventies
Krautrock of Can, Neu, Faust, and Amon D��l. From there, the musical
base explodes into everything from classic rock to trip-hop to ambient to jazz.
Although the music’s wide-open spaces and stabs into uncharted territory leave
plenty of room for tedium (or “snore-core,” as its detractors might call it),
in the hands of the consummate, the result is pure and positively magical.
“Whatever’s happening is definitely good,” says Craig Stewart of Trance
Syndicate, home of fellow travelers like American Analog Set and Furry Things.
“But I don’t know about this term `Space Rock.’ It’s an incredibly broad
category. When I think of `Space Rock,’ I think of just dropping out a lot of
the normal elements of whatever makes up rock. It goes back a lot further than
most people realize. Spaced-out music is kind of like all the gray areas.”
Austin, with its long history of coddling “gray areas,” is well-represented in
space exploration. At the surface, you have a band like Sixteen Deluxe
combining a psychoactive wall of noise effects with the appeal of pop songs.
American Analog Set and Furry Things have also cultivated followings with their
respective forays into ambient and post-psychedelic dance music. At the same
time, Windsor for the Derby actively recalls the work of their German forbears
with a quiet mechanical urgency. Newer bands such as Kitty, 7% Solution, and
Stars of the Lid are garnering raves from their contemporaries, and we would be
remiss not to mention elusive veterans such as ST-37 for largely unrecognized
contributions in the late Eighties and early Nineties.
Stewart also points out that Houston, in its relative musical isolation, has
once again proved to be a prime breeding ground for psyched-out experimentation
with bands like Schrasj, Charalambides, and Buddha on the Moon. This makes
perfect sense, given the legacy of H-Town vanguards such as the 13th Floor
Elevators, Red Krayola, and Jandek. “If you ask me, Houston is a lot closer to
the myth of San Francisco than Austin could ever hope to be,” Stewart asserts.
“They don’t seem to be so obsessed with getting signed there.”
However, if sheer numbers are any indication, the unlikely center of the
“Space Rock” universe in Texas is Denton. The North Texas prairie town plays
home to about 75,000 inhabitants and what may be the highest per capita rate of
active space bands anywhere. Although some of these bands claim residence in
the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex proper, their home scene and center of
music-related activity is a 40-mile commute north on Interstate 35.
According to Wanz Dover, guitarist for Mazinga Phaser and booking agent for
the Argo in Denton, the city’s scene really took off nearly two years ago.
“We’ve got a scene history you could write a book on,” Dover says. “A couple of
years ago, if you weren’t a funk band, you didn’t play in clubs. It’s like a
big, weird accident.”
Dover says MK Ultra, who have since broken up, were the band that really
spearheaded the movement in Denton. At the same time, Comet was coalescing in
the Dallas suburb of Mesquite. “For a long time, every bill would be MK Ultra,
Mazinga Phaser and Comet,” says Dover.
For Comet, the migration toward Denton was more a result of being shut out of
Dallas than anything else. “We played the re-opening of the Bronco Bowl with
Tripping Daisy in February, but that was the last time we played Dallas,
because we really can’t even get shows there,” says Comet guitarist/vocalist
Jim Stone. “We’ve always been able to experiment in Denton. People just booked
us, they didn’t care. We even got good nights. All we had to do was ask.”
Once the foundation was laid, other trance-inducing bands began to appear on
Denton bills. Among them were Sivad, a jazz-leaning ensemble whom Dover
describes as “[My Bloody Valentine’s] Kevin Shields jamming with Miles Davis.”
Lubbock-to-Denton transplants Light Bright Highway also made waves with
three-hour instrumental shows where the shortest song was 30 minutes long.
“They bring along about 30 pedals and tympani drums,” says Dover. “The frat
daddies come in to get a beer and wind up just standing there, salivating at
the front of the stage.”
The flowering of Denton’s scene culminated with this spring’s Melodica
Festival — three days of peace, love, and at least 158 pedals among the 18
bands that played. In addition to Texas bands like Transona 5, Skiptracer, and
Furry Things, Melodica also hosted Tortoise and Spacemen 3 founder Sonic
Boom.
“I hate to admit it, but the idea of a festival came to me after smoking too
much of the green one night,” says Dover, Melodica’s main organizer. “Later on,
people started asking me when it was happening, so I had to go to work. The
fact that we got Tortoise was a big draw for the other bands. Then I got Sonic
Boom’s phone number. I called and explained to him what we were doing. We
talked about the long tradition of psych music in Texas and he agreed to do it.
He flew in from England to do one American date in Denton!”
In fact, Boom was so impressed by the breadth of music at Melodica that he
decided to put out a compilation of festival bands on his Space Age label in
England. Meanwhile, Dover is planning a sequel to Melodica for 1997. “I don’t
know if it was a turning point,” says Ken Gibson, guitarist-vocalist for Furry
Things, “but it sure brought a lot of good music together.”
Since the festival, Mazinga Phaser has released Cruising in the Neon
Glories of the New American Night while Comet has released Chandelier
Musings. The former showcases a pleasantly fluid tribal jazz ethos heavily
influenced by Krautrock, while the latter has its roots in the elegantly
arranged classic pop masterpiece. Meanwhile, Austin’s own Furry Things are busy
adding a disco bottom to the distorted, wall-of-noise approach that
characterized last year’s The Big Saturday Mission. “We’ve been
listening to a lot of Blondie lately,” admits Gibson. “Our next album has some
elements that are definitely disco, but not in a cheesy way. We’re using disco
beats and disco bass lines because we want people to dance at our shows.”
Given these somewhat disparate approaches, there’s some apprehension among the
scene’s bands regarding the whole thing being tagged with what American Analog
Set guitarist-vocalist Andrew Kenny half-humorously calls “the
s-word.” The
bands view the term “Space Rock” as an anathema to their craft. “I hate to
categorize,” says Gibson. “We’re trying to not stick with one thing and throw
people off a bit. Maybe open people’s minds to different styles of music.”
Nevertheless, there is enthusiasm for the notion of a scene. “There’s some
solidarity in this movement amongst the bands and the fans of this type of
music,” says Electric Lounge booking agent Mike Henry. “Because there’s a
movement of sorts going on, these bands can match up with each other and work
together in terms of their draws. They can build bills of like-minded bands and
have fans that are going to come and watch the first band and stay until the
end. It makes for a really solid night. Even the new bands, groups like Kitty
and Maximum Coherence During Flight, are already having a good draw because
people are interested in this type of music right now.”
One of the most interesting elements among space bands is a tendency to view
the studio and the stage as two entirely separate entities. Even among the
neophytes, the focus is more on production aesthetics than just going into the
studio to perform the set list note-for-note. “I think we definitely pursue
trying to make it a different world on record,” says Comet’s Stone. “We never
thought about how we wouldn’t be able to reproduce stuff on stage. The more
stuff we could get on there, the better.”
Indeed, Chandelier Musings may be the best regional example of a band
establishing a distinct studio identity. Produced by former Mercury Rev leader
David Baker, Comet’s album is full of delicate nuances and lush string
arrangements that bring out a whole new dimension in the band’s music. “When we
did the record, I was really trying to make the songs stand out instead of all
flowing together,” says Stone. “I wanted a strong record with strong songs.
One factor that may be steering more young bands in this direction is the
falling price of recording. A summer of mowed lawns in the suburbs will just
about cover the cost of a four-track recorder/mixer these days, and the freedom
of not having to record by the hour enables bands to explore the medium with
more creative tenacity than previously possible. In the case of American Analog
Set, home recording has allowed the band to avoid the pitfalls of studio
jitters and cultivate a sound which is truly their own.
“When it comes time to record, I’m the first to take advantage of the medium,”
says Kenny. “You might as well be choosy and restructure things if necessary so
it will be what you want to hear 10 years down the road.”
The live performance arena also presents its own unique set of challenges for
space bands. A good sound system and an attentive soundperson are important for
any band, but the need becomes even more critical as the level of
unconventional instrumentation increases. While a group like the Furry Things
needs a sound system that can stomach their earth-shaking volume, the American
Analog Set needs to get their quieter, more ambient sound across.
“Every time we play live, it’s just a crap shoot,” says Stone. “Sometimes, we
play with different amps and different cabinets to get specific noises and the
soundman won’t even bother to mike it. Or if they do, they don’t bother to turn
it up. There’s all this stuff that doesn’t get in, and then some stuff gets in
too much.”
At the same time, the loud, beer-fueled atmosphere of nightclubs doesn’t
always lend itself to the appreciation of this form, particularly the more
intimate strain. “The environment is really important to bands like this,” says
Henry. “A lot of them even go to extremes to make sure it happens for them. 7%
Solution will bring in big rugs and pillows so people can sit down in front of
the stage and they light the stage with lamps and candles, so you have to look.
It gives you some place to sit there and vege out and watch the band. Of
course, then there are bands like Stars of the Lid that kind of realized the
same goal by bringing in a tank of nitrous and some balloons.”
It’s impossible to pinpoint the reasons for the somewhat sudden proliferation
and popularity of the space/psych movement, but a partial explanation may be
that longtime cult bands have finally reached a critical mass of wannabe rock
stars. A band like Stereolab may only play to 1,000 people at a time, but if 10
of those people go home and start their own band, their influence can be quite
a bit more formidable than any number of platinum-sellers. “I think there have
been a lot of really influential bands that people have been listening to for
years, and now the people who grew up listening to that kind of stuff are
trying to do their own thing,” says Henry.
Another element of space rock’s prominence may lie in the relative complacency
of other genres. “The time has come,” Henry asserts. “People are always looking
for a different way of doing things. I think also that people got tired of
listening to just obliteratingly loud, grungy shit. This is a little more
interesting.”
Dover’s assessment concurs with this notion from a slightly different tack.
“There’s only so much you can do with funk, and there’s only so much you can do
with punk,” he says. “This genre allows for a lot more diversity.”
Of course, just because there’s room for diversity doesn’t necessarily make it
fact. While Dover can quickly name off a number of unique Texas bands that do
push the envelope, he also notes with disdain that a number of clueless
bandwagon-jumpers have popped up. “They think they can just plug in a few
pedals, get a girl singer, and call themselves space rock,” he says. “The
Denton paper’s music poll actually has a category for `Best Space Rock Band’
this year, which is really offensive if you ask me.”
In spite of the inevitable copycats, there are plenty of promising musical
directions looming on the horizon. As has been the case many times before,
Stewart points to the Detroit scene as a hotbed of innovation. “I think the
scene happening in and around Detroit — mostly around — is much more together
in terms of focusing on free-form music,” he says. “In Texas and Oklahoma, the
bands may have a lot of wah-wah pedals, but it’s still rock & roll. Detroit
bands like F�xa and Wendy & Carl are a lot more experimental.”
Gibson sees the next wave of inspiration coming from the trip-hop being
purveyed by artists such as New York’s DJ Spooky. At the other end of the
spectrum, Henry sees the space sound coming to terms with a certain degree of
traditional structure. “The longer it lasts, the more people will demand from
it,” Henry says. “Right now, people are excited about the organic process of
watching these bands evolve, but I always feel like people will be demanding
songs. Eventually, they’re going to not only want these bands to produce a
sound they like, but also better-crafted songs. That’s what people are always
going to want in any movement.”
Henry may have lowballed it if Sixteen Deluxe is any indication. Their
forthcoming Pilot Knob EP features a Kinks cover, and come January, the
band will head out to San Francisco to record their Warner Bros. debut with
noted popsmith John Croslin at the knobs. “The first year we were together,
bands like My Bloody Valentine and Spacemen 3 were kind of like the guiding
light,” says 16D bassist Jeff Copas. “But all of the stuff we’ve written lately
has been in the vein of making the best pop song we can as opposed to just
blowing people’s minds.”
Indeed, this music’s greatest asset may be its unpredictable direction. Unlike
the “paisley underground” of a decade ago, this generation of psychedelic music
is not about revisitation. “That was more about staying true to a style of
music,” says Henry. “This really does seem like it’s more about forging ahead
with a new sound.”
But is it “Space Rock”? Hard to say when the space designation has been
applied to everyone from Sun Ra to Joe Meek to Hawkwind to George Clinton. The
concept of space has been used to sell everything from newly developed polymers
to Tangreg., so it shouldn’t come as too big a surprise when the term is used
to signify an evolutionary shift in rock music. Certainly there’s plenty of
room for misinterpretation, but confusion and exploring uncharted territory go
hand in hand. Perhaps the one truly significant common thread between these
disparate acts is a compulsion to smash through boundaries — a firm belief in
the absence of limitations on creativity. If that’s an accepted working
definition of the genre, then maybe space is the place after all.
This article appears in December 6 • 1996 and December 6 • 1996 (Cover).
