By Eleni P. Austin
Although the phrase was coined for James Brown, two decades into the 21st century, it feels as though Brent Rademaker has become The Hardest Working Man In Show Biz. Not only did he establish several bands, the most recent being Beachwood Sparks and GospelbeacH, he also runs a respected Indie label, Curation Records, which has signed critically acclaimed artists like Those Pretty Wrongs, Uni Boys, Pacific Range and George Is Lord. GospelbeacH made some noise earlier this year with the release of their fourth long-player, the sublime Wiggle Your Fingers. Now, after a lengthy hiatus, Beachwood Sparks has returned with Across The River Of Stars.
A Florida native, Brent became obsessed with music as a kid. Once he came of age, he earned his keep in bands like A New Personality and Shadowland. Out of the ashes of Shadowland Brent and his brother Darren formed Further with Josh Schwartz and Christopher Gunst in the late ‘80s. Drawing favorable comparisons to Post-Punk stalwarts like Sonic Youth and Dinosaur Jr., they released a couple of albums via Geffen Records in the U.S. as well as the influential Creation label in the U.K.
While Further was happening, the band relocated to L.A. and by the late ‘90s, Brent, along with Josh and Chris, Farmer Dave Scher and Jimi Hey, formed Beachwood Sparks. They drew inspiration from the Cosmic Country Rock pioneered by Gram Parsons, The Byrds, Rick Nelson, Buffalo Springfield, Mike Nesmith and Flying Burrito Brothers. Their sound drafted off that rustic Laurel Canyon flavor, and injected trace elements of Psychedelia and Power Pop. Ultimately, they signed with Sub Pop, and released their self-titled debut in 2000. Once We Were Trees arrived a year later. Of course they experienced the usual line-up changes and toured with kindred spirits like The Black Crowes and The Shins. Individual side projects (The Tyde, All Night Radio, Mystic Chords Of Memory), put Beachwood Sparks on the backburner for a bit. But the band reconvened in 2008 for sb20, a 20th anniversary of Sub Pop Records. 2012 saw the release of their third album, Tarnished Gold. Now, a dozen years later, they have returned with their fourth long-player, Across The River Of Stars.
The album gets off to a rollicking start with “My Love, My Love.” A bit of a back porch ramble, it matches Honky-Tonk piano, jangly guitars and thready bass to a blistering backbeat. The elongated instrumental intro allows the five-piece the freedom to stretch out. The song is front-loaded with wiggy Psychedelic guitar freek-outs, and Punk-tastic, percussive punch-ups. Two minutes in, it winnows down to a lone note and pivots to a courtly Waltz tempo. As vocals emerge, lyrics offer up a sing-songy moon-June-spoon paean to a stellar love: “I love you like the stars above, the stars above that shine so bright, the stars above that guide the way at night.”
With this album, Beachwood Sparks executes a paradigm shift, their sound leans more Cosmic, than Cowboy. Take “Torn In Two,” which blends strummy guitars, gauzy keys, sparkling piano, thrumming bass and a sturdy beat. Chris’ high lonesome vocals wrap around cryptic lyrics that hint at a fractured relationship: “It’s torn in two, the totem that was true, we have to mend it faster, it’s me and you, what are we gonna do? Stop serving the Dark Master.” Shattered shards of guitar ring and sting on the break, mirroring the lyric’s lachrymose ache.
Then there’s the shimmery “High Noon,” which is anchored by a brushed beat, shadowy keys, glimmers of lap steel, brittle bass and fluttery guitars. Blissed-out “la-la-la-la’s” cocoon another opaque treatise on heartbreak: “Wading through the dark, trying to fix a hole in my heart, I’d hang the high noon, Darling, if you want me to, love like that leads you with a map, but it’s leading you away.” While lyrics grapple with an “ocean of feeling,” the drowsy arrangement endeavors to maintain the status quo.
Meanwhile, “Dolphin Dance” shares some musical DNA with that old Lonestar chestnut, “Deep In The Heart Of Texas.” Hell-for-leather guitars, barbwire bass and blazing keys are tethered to a galloping gait. Quixotic lyrics like “from the earth and the sky to the rolling sea, we have found our love and we know that, we are going to be free/Sea forever pure, water forever clean, Dolphins are singing ‘follow me, follow me,’” conflate true love with an eco-friendly Utopia. As the arrangement accelerates, Kinks-y “la-la-la-la’s” (think “Death Of A Clown”), dot the sonic vistas as whipsaw guitars ride off into the sunset.
This record is short, but sweet and every song is a winner. However, four tracks stand out from the pack. “Gentle Samurai” simply crackles with authority. Lanky guitars wash over buoyant bass, frisky keys and a chugging rhythm. An elegy of sorts, lyrics pay homage to an old friend: “Baby where you been so long? Listening to the Silver Raven, watching our hair grow long, I can still hear you sayin’ wandering those many nights, howlin’ at the Marquee Moon, this song has reached its end this time, this album’s over way too soon.” Hushed harmonies and the familiar jingle-jangle guitars on the break hit that mid ‘60s Folk-Rock sweet-spot. Plus, the reference to the Marquee Moon, the seminal debut from NYC Punk pioneers, Television, is equally nifty.
Feathery lap steel partners with a percussive conga kick, shivery guitars, sylvan keys and sinewy bass on “Faded Glory.” Lyrics manage to embrace the pleasure and pain in life in equal measure: “In that suffering I don’t want to lose my mind, in that suffering it’s the freedom that I hope I find, to meet life with a faded glory, to see life through a hero’s kind of story/Looking up from the bottom of a well, it was deep and dark and it felt like hell, but I still saw the light and it saved my soul that day.” Willowy guitar meanders on the break, and the takeaway is, despite all the sturm und drang, music remains the ultimate panacea.
“Gem” seems to find inspiration from the next generation. Sun-dappled guitars, flinty bass and impish keys are wed to an insistent Skip-To-My-Lou beat. Lyrics see life from a different perspective: “I don’t know how we’re spinning in this star-filled void, and I can’t tell you not to be afraid of Man’s murderous toys, but I’ll always be caring for the light in you/Even when the mystery breaks your heart in two, across the river of stars, I’m holding your hand, love everlasting, when I look into your eyes I finally understand.”
Finally, if Big Star and Dr. Hook ever collaborated on a song, it might sound something like “Falling Forever.” Frayed acoustic guitars stack up next to liquid keys, ticklish bass and a kick-drum beat. Banishing the doom and gloom of former heartache, playful lyrics embrace the now: “High and lonesome, that’s where I’m from, that’s where I cried my tears, now nothing’s wrong and nothing’s broken, everything comes easy out here/It feels like I’ve been falling forever, the world keeps turning ‘round, whatever comes my way, won’t ever wreck my day, it’s easy.” Iridescent pedal steel blurs on the break, powering down on the instrumental outro, quietly crafting the perfect Power Pop/Soft Rock synthesis.
The album closes with the “Wild Swans,” a wistful encomium to friendship and the ties that bind. Plangent guitars are propelled by loose-limbed bass and an in-the-pocket beat. Rippling guitars and swoony lap steel intertwine on the break as We are left with one last epiphany: “Don’t let unguarded moments pass…when I turn my mind to looking backwards over my shoulder, I see the music never ends.”
The current iteration of Beachwood Sparks includes the trailblazing trio of Chris Gunst on guitar and vocals, Brent Rademaker on bass and vocals and Farmer Dave Scher on lap steel, keys and vocals, as well as Ben Knight on guitar, Jen Cohen Gunst on keys and guitars and Andres Rentaria. The album was masterfully produced by Black Crowes’ frontman, Chris Robinson.
A hypnotic and compelling effort, Across A River Of Stars, somehow maintains its allegiance to original influences like The Byrds, Buffalo Springfield and the Flying Burrito Brothers. But more intriguingly, it also manages to channel middle period Beach Boys records like Wild Honey, Friends, 20/20. Sunflower and Surf’s Up. The result is a potent combo-platter of tenderness and Twang.
