Music Review - The Choir - Wide-Eyed Wonder

For some reason it has taken me an immensely long time to write this review. Yes, life has been busy but also so much of my early Christian walk is woven with the melodies of this album that attempting to do it justice would be a tall order. Or maybe I don’t know where to start. Or maybe I don’t know what to leave out. Upon further reflection perhaps the reason I don’t want to do my usual review of this album is because to dissect the music might just kill the magic that it had and frankly still has. So I’ll meander about instead.

The Choir’s Wide Eyed Wonder was my introduction to the band (and one of my first Christian albums). As such, I had no clue about Chase The Kangaroo or their former name or that Robin had replaced Tim Chandler* as the band’s bassist. All I knew was that a friend (who seemed to find all the great music three minutes before I did) talked highly about this band so I picked up the album when I saw it on the shelf at my local purveyor of fine** Christian music. It was a purchase I’ve never regretted.

Having been immersed in the world of The Swirling Eddies at that time, I incorrectly took some of Steve’s lyrics as humorous, when in fact he intended them to be poetic. And they are poetic, so I mean no disrespect. But lines like “No, not the spider-shed” and “Were you talking to the snow man? Did you take his cruel advice?” are also a bit random and appealed to my off-kilter sense of humor.

Wide-Eyed Wonder was very different from the music I had been listening to since I began my teen years, which was mostly heavy metal and hard rock. Compared to what I had been listening to this stuff was almost pop, but with a little bit of edge and a little bit of weirdness. I liked all three. The most upbeat of all The Choir albums, there’s a childlike wonder about the songs which captures Steve’s joy over the birth of his daughter and also mirrored my wondrous joy in my newfound relationship with Christ. Of course I knew none of this in my youthful ignorance. All I knew is that there were some unusual sounding songs that were also very singable, very easy to like. There was also a longer, more atonal song called “Car etc.” that I kind of liked but it wasn’t my favorite. There was also a horribly out of place cover of a George Harrison song***. Its fine by itself but it’s a dour acoustic folk song in the middle of a joyous and adventurous celebration. Also tied to this album was the first time I saw the band live. It was the spring of 1990 and I was at Anderson University. I had a girlfriend but no other friends and was so lonely that it ached. I kept seeing this guy around campus who wore a trench coat upon which he had written poetry or lyrics or something all over it. He was a bit on the odd side but friendly so I started talking to him. Surprisingly he also liked The Choir and Adam Again and a few other bands I liked so when I learned that The Choir was playing in my hometown, a mere ninety minutes away, I invited him to ride to the concert with me. It would be great to say that this was the beginning of a lifelong friendship but we didn’t keep in touch after I transferred out at the end of the semester.**** I realize I haven’t said much about the actual album but hey, it’s my blog and I can write like an old man about my ancient memories if’n I want to. You probably already have this album anyway but if you don’t, well, you can’t buy it even from the bands website. YouTube probably has it so treat yourself to some fine tunes that have held up amazingly well for over twenty-five years.

* Looking back at this point in my history I was musically drawn to bass parts but didn’t realize it. I knew there was an instrument called the “bass guitar” but had no clue as to its seductive power or purpose.

** And not so fine. I’m talking to you, Carman and Petra!

*** Really, Choir? Can you tell me, with a straight face, that you listened to the final cut of the album and didn’t think to yourself, “Well, maybe that Harrison cover breaks the spell.”?

**** He’s on Facebook. I sent a friend request though I have no idea why.

Music Review - The Choir - Chase the Kangaroo

Somewhere I read that when it came time for The Choir to record their fourth album, and for Adam Again to record their second (Ten Songs By Adam Again) that they went to the record executives with a deal*. Instead of paying some studio ten grand each in studio time, why not give these two bands the twenty grand and they’d build their own studio. After all, Derri had official engineering experience, and probably the same for Gene. Amazingly the studio went for it. What a bargain! Gene went on to start The Green Room and upped the ante on the quality of Christian music while Derri and company hunkered down for six months to self-produce their first masterpiece, Chase the Kangaroo.

Even before you hear a note the album cover tells you that something is different. Christians are “supposed” to be clear and have exact, understandable answers based on thoroughly systematized theology. Instead we get a dark, blurry photo full of indistinct shapes, a perfect representation of the music within. Speaking of, let’s dig in, shall we?

The opening track, “Consider”, was written last because the record company wanted something radio friendly. I can’t imagine this song being played on an of the all-vanilla-praise stations in my town… how far have we fallen? This song has a deep, spongey bass tone, thick sheets of shimmering guitars and an intense, eager drum beat. Even though this was a tip of the hat to “the man” the song is packed with energy, a wonderful blend of shoegazer and melodic rock. In “Children of Time” each piece of the band (drum, bass, guitar and vocals) fit together like a puzzle, stringing together unsettling lines like “The cosmonauts were first in space / To look for God and find no trace” before ending with a brief, wild sax solo. “Clouds” opens with ominous low synth strings and an inventively panned repeated drum part that forms a hypnotic spell before Derri sings “The blood remains as red / That colors our spirits white.” This here is a classic Choir song, an experience and a journey as much as a song, following the darkness of the tone with the unlikely dark lyrics of “Clouds are round about you / Shadows veil your eyes.” Remember, kids, we’re supposed to be the light in a dark world and have all the answers. Umm… yeah. Around the three minute mark the song melts into a froth of reverb, leaving only shadows of the original signals in a glorious artistic display of studio experimentation. Before leaving this song I’d like to comment on the bass line. It’s simple but perfect, like a constant heartbeat holding together the complex interchange of instruments and reverb.

Written in response to a miscarriage, “Sad Face”** is packed with gorgeous chiming guitars, stuttering low guitars and a lovely round drum pattern in the verse that sounds like its being played on a dark and cloudless night on the thin hope that some ray of relief will shine through. There are lots of misty instrumental passages where Derri bounces cascades of guitars off each other to create a most intoxicating listen and then around the five minute mark the song transitions to a passage containing light strings over a reverse vocal section of “Clouds” and someone it works. The guitars on “Cain” sound urgent***, almost dangerous while lyrics like “Love raised a white flag” add complexity to the mix, although the abundance of piano makes me think this song would have fit in well on Diamonds and Rain.

Side two starts with The Choir getting even more experimental with “The Rifleman” where a sparse guitar part plays while whoever walked into the studio speaks lines concerning an old television show, often overlapping, before drums and a fretless bass make their appearance. The chorus is sung, forming a foundation and amazingly the song comes together splendidly before fading into the chorus of “Render Love” from Diamonds and Rain. There’s so much to love about “Look Out (For Your Own)”. There’s the drum part in the verse that switches around the beat, the unusual instrumental mid-section with echoing saxamaphone, and the crazily inventive bass part which is minimalist and so unlike anything I’d heard before. A final capper is Gene Eugene singing background vocals in the chorus… it’s always great to hear his golden voice. RIP, Gene. “So Far Away” is a stark love song about missing those you love while being on the road with artful glimpses of domestic life such as “I saw your note about the pilot light / Didn’t I fix that thing before?” and “I won’t be there to dry your eyes / So please don’t cry /When I’m so far away.” “Everybody in the Band” is a nice little ditty but it’s not fleshed out and never was meant to be. It’s kind of like a demo you get for no extra charge. The album closes with the title track, a song inspired by the fact that Steve had to get a construction job**** in order to make ends meet. Starting with a chuffing beat and eerie backward-like vocals, the song is classic Choir in that it takes mundane events and explodes them into a spiritual analogy, in this case digging deep for truth. Two thirds of the way through they open up the throttle and the song really takes off. And keeps going upward, building in intensity through the chorus and closing with a final melodic instrumental exploration.

In Chase the Kangaroo it seems like that the band knew that were at a turning point in their career where the odds were that they would likely to be sent home packing. So instead they doubled down and gave it everything they had, and then some, and as a result recorded a pivotal album that has inspired bands such as Switchfoot, Sixpence None the Richer and Jars of Clay to make their own musically and spiritually rich music. Their first of several classic albums!

* Per Tim Chandler, while some of the money for the album may have gone into Derri’s studio this whole story has no basis in reality. I have no clue where it originally came from although I wouldn’t put it past my brain to have made it up.

** An embarrassing aside… I recall being at home with in college and singing this song to a female friend (nothing more) over the phone. A cappella. It makes me cringe on many levels just thinking about it.

*** As well they should as the song deals with the hurt of personal betrayal.

**** Which to me seems a bit comical in itself because Steve’s build is not big ‘n’ burley.

Music Review - The Choir - Diamonds and Rain

Choir – Diamonds and Rain – 1986 I picked up on The Choir with Wide-Eyed Wonder so I didn’t get to hear the band as they developed their sound. This meant that by the time I heard Diamonds and Rain I had also heard Chase the Kangaroo and other classics, putting this 1986 album at a disadvantage. It doesn’t help that the album contains two songs that are among the worst that the band has released. Maybe that’s why for decades I felt that the entire album was unlistenable, blaming the cause for this at the feet of producer Charlie Peacock.

I was wrong. Aside from the two songs, and the bass being way too low in the mix, the album has some very fine examples of songcraft. The album opener, “Fear Only You”, is a fantastic and energetic worship song, made before it became obligatory that worship songs be bland, repetitive and mindless*. Another solid praise song is “All That Is You”, especially if you like slinky bass lines, ringing clean guitars, saxamaphone and cool breakdown sections in addition to your honest and reflective lyrics. “Render Love” is a poetic song full of open space and the kind of inventive yet simple bass lines that makes we want to pull my Carvin 5-string out of its case and plug into my amp. This song was also referenced in Chase the Kangaroo, which I always find enjoyable and amusing.

Speaking of the Kangaroo, “Black Cloud” would fit right in there with its edgy guitars, dark, murky sound and potentially fretless bass sliding all over the place (a classic Chandler sound honed from his days of playing slide trombone). And lots of echo and reverb. Whereas in 1986 a Christian song with the title of “Black Cloud” would have an obligatory final verse where the listener is cheerfully reminded that Jesus will take away all of your black clouds this song takes the Psalm 88 approach and gives no such reassurances. Such is life. Also outside of the (1986) norm is “Listen to Her Eyes,” an excellent and mature love song that makes no attempt to force the lyrics into also being about God. By not trying to stretch an analogy the band is able to write a beautiful song of “If your love is more than words / Listen to her eyes / Read her tears like pages / Hold her when she cries.” “Love Falls Down” is the final strong song on the album with creative instrumentation, a catchy melody, and an energetic bridge that quickens the pulse.

Perhaps the reason Diamonds and Rain retained such a low opinion in my brain are the quartet of mediocre or worse songs. “I Painted Mercy” is the best of the lot, followed by “When The Morning Comes”, a song which seems to want to be a big, dramatic closer but just doesn’t come together. From there we come to “Kingston Road”, a Peacock song with an irritatingly cheap sounding synth clarinet and a trite, sing-songly melody that makes one glad it’s 1986 and your CD player has a skip button. But don’t push it too many times or else you’ll land on “Triangle.” It’s a song about addiction that probably should have been recorded by Petra or Degarmo and Key.

Again, I will admit that Diamonds and Rain is immensely better than I previously gave it credit for, containing far more solid songs packed with character and poetic insight than most other Christian bands of that day. Plus the band decided that since they were pushing thirty they should probably drop the “Youth” from their name, a wise move in pre-internet days although now it’s kind of like naming your band “3” and wondering why people can’t find you on their favorite search engine. And yes, I realize that I’m all about ‘dat bass here but hey, I’m a bassman. So allow me to point out that Steve Hindalong plays on the entire album and comes up with some very creative and catchy drum parts and Derri Daugherty continues to come into his own by combining his love of fuzzy shoe-gazer guitar with true melodies and U2 (most Christian guitarists did) to come up with his own sound.

* 99.5% of ‘em, anyway.

Review - Youth Choir - Shades of Grey

NOW I get to write a review of Shades of Gray, a five song EP from 1986 the band recorded in a hurry so they would have something more to sell while on a prestigious twenty city tour with the prestigious Steve Taylor. The urgency of the recording process translated into a very energetic feel to these early songs despite being 80% drum machine. Yes, drum machine again but at least it was programmed by someone who knew their way around a kit because they are very convincing rhythms. Let’s dig in, shall we?

“Fade Into You” opens with a crisp piano, played by Derri. Bass and drums enter, propelling the song into the verse where Tim playfully colors outside the lines. Funny how I just noticed how Tim plays a few notes off the root, adding some wonderful tension. Also extra-deluxe is the middle passage which is 100% keyboard but sounds amazingly orchestral due to the counterpoint arrangement and decent synth-string sound. The song sports amazing lyrics, yearning for a closer relationship with God, that are the kind of fresh and earnest worship that I wish were more en vogue today.

“15 Doors” lyrically foreshadows a Hindalong specialty in telling a story from a brief episode and expanding it to broader implications. This story is that their tour van broke down and they had to knock on fifteen doors before someone let them in. Imagine from the band’s side: They are late twenties and harmless Christian believers. Imagine from the home owners side: It’s late, it’s dark, and these spikey-haired punks are knocking on your door. However as Steve artfully puts it “I saw somebody in the window / A light on in the hall / Could I step inside for one moment / And give my wife a telephone call? / So sorry to alarm you / I’m not gonna harm you / Don’t call the night patrol.” There’s a tremendous amount of energy in this song perfectly encapsulated in the U2-ish guitar riff.

“More Than Words” is another early indication of their sound, utilizing Dan’s echoy lyricon to make a whispy, gauzy puff of a song with amazing lyrics told from our Redeemer’s viewpoint. While only 2:36 it seems just the right length for this shoe-gazing experiment.

You know it’s the eighties because “Tears Don’t Fall” has a sax solo. It’s a good one but still, it’s there. While more in line with their debut the production is better. So is the bass (which is up from in the mix and sounds thick a meaty) and the extra musical flourishes that keep your interest. “All Night Long” prefigures yet another Choir pattern, that of the moody and dark yet melodic and hopeful perfect pop song.

Shades of Grey is a foreshadowing of all that The Choir will become with strong pop-based melodies and a sense of experimentation and adventure, but not so much as to scare off youth pastors raised on Petra.

* Um, what are they looking at on the cover?

Review - Youth Choir - Voices In The Shadows

There I was, all keyed up to review Shades of Grey when my pre-writing research rudely reminded me that this was not the recording debut of The Choir. Yes, I forgot an entire album, which is a pretty good indication of the impression Voices in the Shadows made on me.

Recorded under the name of Youth Choir, Voices in the Shadows was produced by some guy named Thom Roy (or Roy Thom) who has since disappeared into his own shadows. In addition to the name difference, drummer Steve Hindalong was on the fence between joining this band and continuing with another band named “Lucky Stiffs” (which included future Choir bassist Tim Chandler) so he didn’t play on the album, although he is credited as having done so. Instead drum duties were handled by a drum machine. I’m sure it made sense back in 1985 but the lack of a drummer’s sensibilities and finesse and inventive chops definitely gives the rhythm section a kind of generic blandness*. And speaking of generic, there’s bassist Mike Saurbrey who appears now and then on Choir albums when Tim Chandler is stuck in the potty with roadside food illnesses. I have nothing against Mr. Saurbrey or his playing (except that he reminds me painfully of myself in the following description) but consider this: Mike: capable but unremarkable bass lines, looks like just some guy up on stage. Tim: crazily inventive melodic monster bass lines that add tension and depth to the songs, amazing stage presence. No contest! And then there’s the lyrics. Future albums had Steve Hindalong writing most of the lyrics and the man has a poetic way with words that brought acclaim to this band. This time out guitarist/vocalist/songwriter Derri Daughterty wrote the lyrics. As far as they go, they are decent but nothing spectacular, focusing on hopeful optimism not tainted by doubt and “who will help the children”, a subject that was quite en vogue at the time.

So what’s good about this platter? In listening to the album again for the first time in a decade I’m impressed with the quality of the songwriting and the vocal melodies. Sonically it’s a pretty good engineering job so kudos, Thom (or Roy)! However the standout feature of this debut album is Derri’s guitar playing. While not yet fully developed, one can hear the influence of British bands that will be explored more fully on later albums and on “Another Heart” one gets to hear the chiming, floating, ethereal playing style that will later become a huge part of the signature Choir sound. But at this point only one of the four players is in place so it really is a different beast than the band that will become THE CHOIR. Overall, it’s much better than I remembered (or didn’t remember). If the unvarying programmed drums were replaced with a real drummer this album would improve dramatically, possibly becoming a great example of upbeat 80s Brit-rock. Another standout is the pure eighties keyboard sounds! For the most part, keyboards were dropped from the bands later albums, except for when played through the lyricon of Dan Michaels. Oddly, no one is credited at playing these magnificently vintage tones.

* And now, the rest of the story: From a discussion on Facebook with Steve, he says "That's all nonsense. I was in the band (Youth Choir) since '83. First album came out in '85. Derri had written all the songs and the producer wanted to use a drum machine but barely knew how to program it. Anyway, we evolved."

Music Review - The Choir - O How the Mighty Have Fallen

The last few albums by The Choir have been tepid but it's albums like this that keep me coming back for when they are good, they are incredibly good.

I suppose I should open this review with a disclaimer: I’ve been a fan and champion of The Choir for about 17 years and recently drove down to Nashville with my dazzling wife to attend the CD release party for their latest album, O How The Mighty Have Fallen But I’m not above being objective, and when an album of theirs is irregular, as was their last album five years ago, I’m not afraid to state my opinion to the six people in my zip code who know about this band (all of whom coincidentally live at my address).

“So cut to the chase, dude! How is this album from a band we neither know nor care about?” Well, dear reader, the verdict is that it’s pretty durn solid! While the last one went from acoustic ballads to extremes of swirling studio noise, Mighty takes the middle road and sports a fairly consistent sound, that being a distinctly proprietary blend of dark and fuzzy space art rock topped with lyrics that are insightful, painfully human and mature.

The title track, a dirge for the fallen, opens the album with a bleak landscape of shimmering guitars cascading against spacey sounds, heralding in “new” member Marc Byrd who has been a Choir disciple for over two decades. “Nobody Gets A Smooth Ride” dramatically switches gears with the first of two more rock-focused songs, this one with bassist Tim Chandler’s loping, whimsical style fully evident. Summarizing the rest of the album, this song explores life’s gritty reality with lines such as “Every child will learn / How the asphalt burns / When he takes a sharp turn too wide,” which becomes the brighter chorus of “I’m really sorry the way things are going these days / Try to be careful, that’s all I can say.” The other “rocker” is the rousing “Fine Fun Time,” which revels in the joy of their lasting friendship amid jovial jabs, a foot stomping beat and Dan Michaels laying a brief but effective sax solo.

“Terrible Mystery” is a poignant relationship-ending song of simple strummed guitar enveloped in an aura of artful feedback. Buzzing guitars break through for an all-too-brief musical interlude in this song about the guitarist Derri Daugherty’s divorce that exhibits such lyrics as “And I don’t cry anymore / Only once in awhile / When I am alone” and “How I searched for the key / To unlock your guarded heart / And set your love free.” Immediately following is a contrasting love song from drummer Steve Hindalong to his wife, proving once again that The Choir write some of the best, most honest, love songs. “We Give We Take” is whimsical, sad, and sweet without being sappy, mixing snapshots of daily life into a larger tapestry. To wit: “Chicago might be cold / How nice the way you folded / Everything so neatly,” that becomes the bridge of “We give, we take / We build, we break / We stare at the moon and we sigh.” Chugging guitars lay bare the monotony of life, while sliding guitar adds whimsy, and sporadic vocal harmonies add the sparkle of love that occurs too rarely in married love.

The album concludes with two of the darkest songs, followed by a ray of hope. “How I Wish I Knew” is about the helplessness a parent feels when their child suffers from depression (“When I see you falling / When I hear you crying / When I feel you fading away / How I wish I knew what to say/ How I wish I knew what to pray”) while “Mercy Will Prevail” is a throbbing, pounding examination of the age-old question of how a loving God allows pain and suffering to exist (“I want to swear it’s true / But it’s hard to defend it. / I know it comes from You / And I don’t comprehend it”). Despite its low-key, resigned outward demeanor, this song has a passionate undercurrent that drives the song with the irresistible force of gravity. “To Rescue Me” is the peaceful, reassuring epilogue to the proceeding storm of doubt and gritty reality, showing that while not everything is peaches and roses, there are shafts of light that break through the dark clouds.

Quite a set up, eh? Can this album really be this satisfying or is the reviewer just a rabid fanboy? You can hear the entire album (and purchase it as well) from www.thechoir.net/newchoir and hear why The Choir has been so influential to so many bands.

Music Review - The Choir - Shadow Weaver

The Choir, one of my favorite bands since becoming a Christian twenty five years ago, has released a new album. Their poetic lyrics have provided countless hours of encouragement and comfort to my soul while the innovative yet melodic music gave me hope that not all Christian music was cheesy and helped keep me from sliding back into music with lyrics that would have harmed my seedling faith. As you might expect, the boys in the band have undergone a number of changes in a quarter century and are not the same men they were. They are older, mellower, perhaps content with their place in life instead of being hungry to make it big. Children have been born, raised, and are leaving the nest. Marriages have failed or beaten the odds. They've shared their lives with us, allowing glimpses into their daily life in a way few bands do, almost making us an extended family.

Now a new member to the discography is born: Shadow Weaver. As I take off my nostalgic cap and don my critical music reviewers fedora, I can honestly saw that it's at least twice as good as their last album. But this isn't saying much because The Loudest Sound Ever Heard is my least favorite Choir album, ranking even lower than their sophomore effort Diamonds and Rain. It (LSEH, not DAR) was a transitional album where the lyricist was newly sober and his wife asked for the troubles in their marriage to no longer be the subject of his songs so he was struggling to find his new muse. Now that he's had some time to adjust his lyrics have definitely improved.

But there's still a problem. The rhyme scheme he has chosen for seven out of the thirteen songs on the album is repetative.

Name of the song
Rhyme A
Rhyme A
Name of the song

Here's an example: It hurts to say goodbye / It hurts to say goodbye / Feathers ride on the wind / The bird was made to fly / It hurts to say goodbye

There are slight variations, such as "Everybody's Got a Guru" where the chorus is just the title of the song repeated over and over. Do this in one song, fine. Do it in seven out of thirteen (actually out of eleven since one song is an instrumental and one is a nearly instrumental reprise) and it's going to wear out it's welcome pronto.

Being the analytic dork that I am I wondered if perhaps this was typical for the band and I hadn't noticed it before so I did a quick random sampling, picking one or two songs from each album:

Everybody in the Band - somewhat
Cain - no
Merciful Eyes - no
Listen to Her Eyes - Oh yes. - from Diamonds and Rain
Flowing Over Me - no
Away with the Swine - no
Weather Girl - no
Nobody Gets A Smooth Ride - no
Alright Tonight - Chorus is just title twice - from Voices in Shadows
Robin Had A Dream - no chorus
Wide Eyed Wonder - no
Legend of Old Man Byrd - no
Melodious - no

As you can see, the only instances where I found what I consider to be a lazy form of poetry occurred in their earliest and least mature albums. I wouldn't mind so much except that The Choir used to be the example I would turn to for proving that Christian lyrics can have depth and layers of nuance, taking everyday events and turning them into universal themes. Now they're returned to simplistic and often politically correct preachiness that made songs like "You do that triangle" so cringe-worthy. For instance, "Antithesis of Blue" which tells of a day where Steve's wife asked him to do some things while she was gone but returned to find that he'd done nothing. She pretty much calls him a lovable scamp and sends the boy out to the garden to get some herbs. That's it? Where's the tension? Good fiction relies on tension and resolution and I'd say the same applies to music. Oh, how the mighty have fallen!

Okay, enough out of this cranky old man. What's good about this album? For starters a few of the songs actually have a bit of grit about them. I never was one for ambient shoe-gazer music but what made The Choir great was their ability to mix this style with others, creating something new in the process. In that vein, "What Do You Think I Am" is a very strong song, mixing murky shimmers of guitar tones with a gutsy bass and confessional lyrics. More washes of sound and guitar fuzz are to be found in "It Hurts To Say Goodbye", a highlight where the ache of letting adult children go is captured in a very few poignent verses. "Get Gone" is another one with a nice head of steam, energetic in a relaxed way but with classic surreal Choir lyrics that leave much for the brain to chew on. A final quasi-rocker is "White Knuckles" where a slower, quieter verse opens up in the chorus, surrounded by lots of noise. Much of this noise may be due to Julian Kindred who has returned with his magic suitcase of effects, adding textures and noisy swirling distortions like no one I've ever heard. I also like the low groaning distorto-bass on "Shadow Weaver Reprise", though once again it seems like bassist Tim is muzzled on most of the album. Sure I'm biased but I think it was his "wrecking" their pretty songs on earlier albums that added interest, depth and tension. As a whole, the album sounds more like an album, instead of a series of songs, which has been their trend as late.

That's it. The grumpy old man is done grouching. This album at least showed promise and a step back in the right direction as well as adding a few new strong songs to their catalog and for that I'm grateful.

Classic Album Review - The Choir - Free Flying Soul

The Choir has just released another album, The Loudest Sound Ever Heard so I figure it’s appropriate that the next “Classic Album Review” is of the only Choir album on the list, Free Flying Soul. Those aware of this band are probably scratching their heads as to why my top Choir pick wouldn’t be one of their other albums, and with good reason. Over the course of their career this band has released a surprising number of very solid albums (Chase the Kangaroo, Oh How the Mighty Have Fallen and Circle Slide are all tens) but this album has captured my heart.

After years and years of touring and writing and recording the band was in top form. Coming off their Kissers and Killers album there’s still quite a bit of grit in these songs, which me likey! This aggression is couched in solid songwriting, interesting arrangements and killer melodies. There’s also an animal theme with song titles of “Salamander”, “Sled Dog”, “The Chicken” and others. Considered a dark album, Free Flying Soul is full of inspired and vivid poetry. The eerie, quiet “Polar Boy” is a stark personal revelation of need with lines such as “He’s got his purple nose / Pressed against your icy window / Perhaps you will allow / Polar boy in so he can warm himself / By your fire.” “Away With the Swine” is a rocker that sits easily alongside Kissers and Killers songs… gotta love those fuzzy guitars and that fuzzy bass!

“The Ocean” is a song I’ve skipped for so long I had forgotten it was on here. Listening to it again for he first time in years, well, it’s not bad but it doesn’t seem to fit the album. I don’t think I’ve been missing anything so I’ll continue to skip it. And besides, it’s followed by “If You’re Listening”, another simply amazing song of confession. Once again the song is album more air than it is notes, aching in its delivery. My wife says the song is ruined by the bass but I think the bass makes the song, a sub-octave fuzzed out tone that is almost a subliminal rumbling. The lyrics on this song are simply superb, scathingly honest in their willingness to accept the hurt our sin causes those around us. “If you’re listening to me now / I wouldn’t blame you anyhow for running me / Out of town.” Excellent guitar work on this one as well.

“Slow Spin” is, by every account, an odd yet brief song with spoken sections but it just works, kind of a quick sketch that knows not to overstay its welcome. “Leprechaun” continues the whimsy, capturing the image of a happy walk across the lawn with a big Chandler-written loping rhythm. “Yellow-Haired Monkeys” continue to provide a light breath after the previous heavy album, leading to “Butterfly”, an absolutely gorgeous song about wanting to inspire one’s children to take wing and fly. “You are precious more than I could express / Melody and word are poor at best / You are a gift to me / A treasure from Heaven / You were created to fly / To decorate the blue sky…” I’ve got to stop or else I could end up giving the entire song up as an example. Add to this Tim’s excellent bass line, sometimes slippery, sometimes groaning and Derri’s shimmering guitar tone and you’ve got a winner. Listening again I’m astounded that as the song progresses it just gets better and better. The album ends fittingly dark with “The Warbler,” a haunting midnight song if there ever was one- the song just sounds like pre-dawn after a sleepless of tears and fears. Despite the tone and feel Steve can’t help but to offer up hope in the lyrics “Never mind that drum dirge you hear droning” but instead celebrate despite your circumstances.

It’s difficult to believe that Free Flying Soul was written in 1996, 14 years ago. I didn’t get the album when it came about because I was in my musical abstinence period and thus I missed the chance to see The Choir play in Fort Wayne. BAH! But when the album finally made its way into my head it was exactly what my soul needed - a reality-smudged celebration of faith and family.

Review - The Choir - Flap Your Wings

This is an extremely uneven album. Half of it is trippy and buzzy and amazing. Then, per my imagination, the band found that they only had half an album done and a deadline of the upcoming Cornerstone festival looming so they raided Derri's unfinished solo album for songs and added a bit of Choir-ish-ness and ZOOOMBA, you have an album. Not that I don't like Derri's songs but it's obviously a mishmash. This could have been one amazing EP.

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The Choir has long been one of my favorite bands. They write accessible, melodic rock songs, are stunning musicians, and always manage to have a sound that is truly alternative to the rest of the world. Flap Your Wings is their latest sonic landscape, a collection of solid songs played by musicians free to exercise their creativity. The title track almost sounds like the clouds opening up and a ray of light coming down with the listener taken up through the hole and beyond. The fuzzy, chaotic bass line is juxtaposed perfectly against the clean, ringing guitars that give a perfectly heady feeling to the listener. There is a bit of Radiohead to this song but as with all Choir influences, these are distilled to their essence and reworked to create fresh and original sounds. "Shiny Floor" buzzes nicely through the mind with Derri Daugherty's incomparable spacey wall of guitar textures that draws from such bands as The Church and early U2. As always, Steve Hindalong has created lyrics that conjure unique metaphors such as "I'll try to be agile like a Saskatoon lynx". The Choir always has managed to stride the fence with just the right amount of sentiment, humor, and seriousness. "I Don't Mean Any Harm" has an especially catchy melody and lyrics to which every married man can relate: "I called to tell you/ That I'm sorry to have such fun and leave you all alone / I'm gonna paint the hallway tomorrow / Say it won't be too late to atone." As a song that every father will feel, "Cherry Bomb" is an ode to small children who "spill grape juice on me" with Tim Chandler's trippy, slippery bass line that sounds like a lumbering, drunken elephant which incidentally only causes slightly less damage than a small child. The stunning "Sunny" shows the Choir at their most creative with a sultry, fuzzed out feel. Dan Michaels adds his smouldering sax to this song that sounds like it has the band bubbling up from the bottom of a very dark lake. Mixed in with this aural frenzy are a number of acoustic songs that are just as well written as the rest but seem a bit out of place and simplistic against the grandeur of the atmospheric, electrically charged, feedback-laden songs that dominate the album. A small achilles' heel, if you will. It's been a long wait since the last Choir album, but worth every painful second. If you can't find this album locally, go to www.thechoir.net.

This review first appeared in WhatzUp, August 2000.

Review - The Choir - Never Say Never

How I managed to review twenty years of albums in a short review is beyond me. I must have had super powers back then.

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Every serious fan of music has a handful of favorite artists who, despite consistently creating stunning music, somehow miss the success they deserve. The Choir is one such arrow in my quiver. Over the past twenty years they have pushed the envelope of what is possible in music, had once come within inches of a deal with Geffin Records, and continually inspire bands who are both less talented and more successful than themselves. Never Say Never is a box set containing their first nine studio albums plus a 100 page book detailing their Spinal Tap-ish history and complete lyrics, all for about $60. They never were in this business to get rich. The band first recorded in 1985 and admittedly, their first two albums are a sonic reflection of their times. The third album is better but their producer wasn't doing them any favors. For their fourth album, Chase the Kangaroo, they took over complete control and recorded in their own studio. They unearthed their sound and their sonic palette exploded. The guitars became dark and monolithic, drenched in reverb, the lyrics honest, probing, enigmatic spiritual quests where there were no easy answers. The songs sprawled outside their three-minute radio-friendly boundaries, becoming adventures unto themselves. The Choir followed this disturbing masterpiece with a perfect pop album, Wide-Eyed Wonder which manages to celebrate the recent additions to their families without becoming trite or saccharine. The band returned to their swirling wall of sound in Circle Slide, an album of sadness, joy, pain and beauty, of longing for a tree of one's own on which to hand a tire swing. With Kissers and Killers the band traded in their clean reverb for powerful distortion and feedback while retaining their signature pop melodies. Lyrics that marry violence with love ("Before you kill me honey recognize / I'm you're one way rumbling ride through yellow skies") twist their way through the fuzzed-out morass of guitar. Dreamy nighttime soundscapes typify Free Flying Soul, their last studio in this collection. Clean whirling guitars smash headlong into brash distortion as the oblique lyrics follow suit, ending with "The Warbler" which is both comforting and chilling. Difficult, challenging and worth every second, this album crawls under your skin and haunts your every waking moment. Of course, what is a retrospective box set without unreleased material? How about over an hour of unreleased material including two new songs, early demos, and other rarities? Sure $60 is a lot to plunk down on a band you may have never heard of, but this is eight discs full of incredibly inventive, melodic, lyrical music. It's impossible for me to pick a favorite album because each one is such a strong release and worth of a full review. It is equally difficult to pigeonhole their style… but here goes: take parts of The Church, My Bloody Valentine, U2, Radiohead, and four inventive minds, blend in rock, pop and true alternative (for they are ever forging new ground, always outside the mainstream) and pour into a chilled goblet of arcane, perplexing yet intelligent lyrics and enjoy. Search Fort Wayne for these classic albums if you dare or head straight to www.thechoir.net and satisfy your musical gullet.

This review first appeared in WhatzUp, September 2001.

Review - The Choir - The Loudest Sound Ever Heard

Yeah, a new album from The Choir is here! In fact, it’s been here quite a while. I’ve listened to The Loudest Sound Ever Heard many, many times, hoping it would catch my fancy. I even listened to the band commentary CD in the hopes that it would illuminate what I perceive to be flat and uncharacteristically unpicturesque lyrics. Nope. Since I had the Stems mix I listened to the unadulterated bass part for each song. Better (more of the fuzz comes through) but not enough. Over one weekend I had two song snippets in my head. I had hoped that it was the beginning of an earworm and that I would grow to love the album but it only lasted an hour and then the songs disappeared from my head. And so, after writing this, I’ll probably shelve the album for a few years.

I could write more detail on how this album fails to live up lyrically, melodically and song-writingly but I have too much respect and love for this band. Some fans are really diggin’ it but it just isn’t digging into me. My personal favorites include Oh, How The Mighty Have Fallen, Circle Slide, Free Flying Soul and Chase The Kangaroo, all albums that rate 10 or even 11, if that gives you an idea of my musical inclinations. However this album, at least lyrically, at times reminds me of Diamonds And Rain. Okay, I’ll stop now. Except to say that the band has slipped from “Pre-Order and Buy Everything The Put Out Including Extras” to “Maybe I Should Listen To It First.” At least they didn’t slip as far as They Might Be Giants who have now become “Get It From The Library”.

Review - The Choir - Burning Like the Midnight Sun

The Choir knows how to treat their fans well. Burning Like The Midnight Sun is their twelfth album in a hundred zillion years. Or almost thirty. Look, this isn’t a statistics lecture and you’re getting me off track. The point is that this time around the band went hog-wild with fan friendly flotsam. You can buy the album, with its lovely tri-fold format full of nice artwork created somewhere near a computer but not with a computer, or you can download the album and rip the band off by sharing it with your friends. You can also get the “Directors Cut” CD which plays the album in full with the band rudely talking over the music. Sure, they’re telling about the making of the album and the stories behind the songs but still… MANNERS, PEOPLE. The complete freak can get the “Stems” DVD which has all the parts for each song broken out into its own track so you can mix and remix your own version of the album. Or said freak can just listen intently to, say, just the drum tracks or backing vocals until their eyeballs shoot out of their head. It’s a free country.

But all the options are worthless unless the music is good. Which would be the question. Is it? Or maybe the question is “Will the reviewer answer the question before his editor gives him the axe?” I’ve been writing for this hear paper for about half as long as The Choir has been cranking out albums, though suspiciously I seem to have dropped off their Christmas Card list. Hmmm…. In a nutshell, or a clamshell if you’re feeling rich, Burning Like The Midnight Sun is a fine, fun album. Not their best, though. Not the “instant classic” that many of their fans claim. But then again, what do I know? If “many of their fans” hail the album as a classic and this one old grouch in Indiana says it’s a strong A minus my guess is that most listeners would do well to disregard said reviewer. In which case I’m out of a side-job so forget you read that.

This time around the band heads back to their roots, recalling their spartan Chase the Kangaroo days (that’s one of their early albums, 1988, to be exact), conjuring up sonic textures akin to The Church and Cocteau Twins while simultaneously forging ahead. Translation: it sounds a bit like their late 80s albums but instead of being a boring rehash the band packs in lots of fresh ideas. There’s lots of gauzy guitars and spacey sax floating around in linear melodic lines that draw you in, stuff that sounds simple until you realize how the two guitarist are dancing around each other (though in the studio they didn’t, or at least they didn’t in the many “making of” cuts they posted on You Tube, another friendly gesture to their fans) and hooking in the bass. Unlike some past efforts there aren’t loads of layers, instead stripping back the bark to effectively focus on the core of each song. A few of the songs rock, though none as hard as their excellent Kissers and Killers, a few songs dreamily drift by in anesthetic glee and at least one will leave you scratching your head at their psychedelic wit. Since it’s been five years since they released their last album, O How the Mighty Have Fallen (in my meager opinion a creative pinnacle and available from the bands website for a disgustingly low price), the band hit the studio hungry – unlike many of the albums by bands with their tenure or “Grammy-nominated” status there’s no sign that they are phoning it in.

Lyrically The Choir has always been a favorite of fans because of their willingness to flay open their hearts, writing candidly about friendship, marriage, and parenthood. “Friendship” they have covered as many of these songs are about (wait for it…) themselves! Yes, drummer/tambourinist/lyricist Steve Hindalong wrote songs about a humorous run-in at the airport involving their bassist, Tim Chandler, a song in honor of second guitarist Marc Byrd hitting a milestone birthday (“Legend of Old Man Byrd”), a song about the passing of Tom Howard (“A Friend So Kind”) and a ditty about an occurrence years ago when their sax player Dan Michaels fell off a four foot stage (“I’m Sorry I Laughed”). Two songs (“The Word Inside The Word” and “It Should Have Been Obvious”) remind us that Hindalong is more poet than theologian (‘Nuff said) and “That Melancholy Ghost” is an excellent, echo-drenched song about a nearly grown daughter who is plagued with depression and the pain and helplessness a parent feels in the face of a child suffering.

This leaves the relationship songs. The relationship songs… where did they put those again? Huh? Oh yeah… on the “Directors Cut” Steve mentions that his revealing “insider secrets” of his marriage on past albums has caused negative tensions with his wife so he scaled that back. Good for his marriage, bad for us. The lone track that almost touches on this subject is “Between Bare Trees,” a song which likens the necessity of winter “death” to make way for the colorful explosion of spring to relationships that also undergo tough seasons that clear the relationship rubbish, clearing the way for better times. The album highlight comes at the very end with “Say Goodbye to Neverland,” a song about growing up even if you’re pushing fifty. Just as the rest of the album contains a sprinkling of lyrical references to past albums, Neverland contains multiple meanings: aside from the obvious Peter Pan reference it’s also the name of guitarist Derri Daugherty’s previous studio, the contents of which were liquidated in his divorce, an event that no doubt forced much inner searching and growth. While most of the song is a midnight vigil of stark piano and sobering lyrical melody they allow the beast known as Tim Chandler to fuzz out a bit near the end before reining him back in. Like the rest of Burning Like The Midnight Sun the song works magnificently. And if you want to find out what the title means, well, I’m not gonna spill the beans. Buy the album. Better yet, buy this album and their previous album. You won’t regret it. Or maybe you will… I’m just some hack music critic, not a fortune teller.