By Eleni P. Austin
In a perfect world, The dB’s would be as famous and revered as The Beatles or R.E.M. Of course, the North Carolina band were deeply influenced by the former, and in turn, inspired the latter, along with countless other ‘80s bands. Their sound was a sharp amalgam of Power Pop and British Invasion, with soupcon of Punk swagger.
Peter Holsapple and Chris Stamey were pals long before they became band-mates. They grew up together in Winston-Salem. Although Peter was sent to an East Coast prep school, the pair reconnected a few years later. Recruiting drummer Will Rigby, they started their musical journey as a three-piece known as Rittenhouse Square. At some point, bassist Gene Holder joined the fold. There was a bit of back-and-forthing to New York City, accompanied by break-ups and reconfigurations. By 1981, they’d evolved into The dB’s. Throughout the ‘80s, they released a clutch of amazing records that (you guessed it), achieved critical acclaim and modest commercial success. They amicably parted ways at the dawn of the ‘90s. Peter has earned his keep as a touring and session musician with the likes of R.E.M., Hootie & The Blowfish and The Bangles. He also recorded a couple duo projects with Chris and was part of the ramshackle super group, Continental Drifters. Chris toggled between carving out an intriguing solo career and running Modern Recording, his studio in Chapel Hill (which has recorded albums with everyone from Marshall Crenshaw, Whiskeytown and Yo La Tengo). Will has made his share of solo music and pounding his drum kit for Freedy Johnston, Steve Earle, Matthew Sweet and Murray Attaway. Gene wound up on the production side of things working bands like Pylon and Luna.
In 2012 the guys reunited to record their wonderful fifth effort, Falling From The Sky. During the pandemic, Peter and Chris reconvened with Our Back Pages, an album that revisited some dB’s favorites, giving them an acoustic spin. Meanwhile, the boss and bitchin’ kids at Propeller Sound Records have made it their mission to reacquaint the world with The dB’s ‘80s oeuvre (that’s right, I said oeuvre) by lovingly releasing their older albums. A few months ago we saw the reissue of their 1981 debut, Stands For deciBels, now they’re back with the follow up, Repercussion.
While the first album was a perfect confluence of Power Pop, British Invasion, spikey New Wave and trace elements of Punk, The dB’s really upped the ante for their second record. The songwriting duties are split evenly between Peter and Chris. Peter gets his say from the jump, with the one-two punch of “Living A Lie” and “We Were Happy There.”
On “Living…,” swirly organ surrounds peppery horns, sinewy guitars, sturdy bass, ticklish piano and a jaunty beat. Celestial “ahhhh-ah’s” can’t camouflage Peter’s accusatory tone as lyrics go on offense, trying to untangle a dying entanglement: “You were wondering why I keep up this illusion, is it because I hurt too much to hurt, or would you prefer we act like nothing’s happening just to keep you from living a lie.” Staccato horns mirror the antsy urgency of the lyrics on the break. The song closes out with a splash of hi-hat.
It quickly folds into the angular ache of “We Were Happy There.” A workman-like beat collides with a chicken-scratch guitars, plinky percussion, spacey keys, brittle bass and a thunky beat. Peter adopts a wistful tone as he accepts a romantic fait accompli, noting “Girl, they say the time has come for me to be replaced, and now I just can’t show my face, cause we were happy there, it was a long, long time ago, we were happy there…” A jangly guitar solo flutters and squawks across the break, nearly undercutting the lyrical angst.
The next couple of tracks belong to Chris. “Happenstance” is a blend of hazy Psychedelia and buoyant New Wave, Strummy guitars are matched by icy keys, loose-limbed bass and a tick-tock beat. Erudite lyrics unpack the saga of a meddling mother trying to thwart young love: “Happenstance we fell into the off-the-cuff vitriolic remark, all I ever wanted was to make you so damn happy, but the mother knows what’s best she said, the mother knows what’s right, so run back to your mother, out of mind, out of sight, out of sight.” The sense of betrayal practically pulsates through the catchy chorus: “Think for yourself, think it through, don’t let her live for you, think for yourself, think of me, think of what I’m saying, think for yourself, think for yourself, think for yourself, you’ll come back to me.” Even as the action slows. the tension ratchets up at the bridge building to a stunning crescendo.
Then there’s the dissonant denouement of “From A Window To A Screen.” Tentative keys lattice buzzy guitars, tensile bass and a brushed beat. The lyrics offer a tender post-mortem on a broken romance: “Careless at the start, cautious at the end, Ives was on the stereo, I remember when, someone would say ‘what happened?’ I won’t make that mistake again, I won’t make that mistake again.”
And so it goes, failed relationships seem to be an unintentional leitmotif. The best songs here mine that bottomless well of inspiration. “Amplifier” is probably The dB’s best-known song. A scabrous break-up track powered by squally harmonica, rangy guitars, boomerang bass and a jittery beat. Peter adopts a deadpan mien as lyrics unspool a sad-sack yarn that is equal parts apathetic and amusing: “Danny went home and killed himself last night, she’d taken everything, she’d taken everything, Danny went home and killed himself last night, she’d taken everything, she’d taken everything/She took his car, she took his bike, she took everything that she thought that he liked, and what she couldn’t take, she found a way to break, she left his amplifier.” A jaggy guitar solo and rippling piano on the break drills down on the laissez faire vibe.
Flipping the script, “Ask For Jill” is poppy and effervescent, as see-saw guitars, pealing bells, stinging keys, and throbbing bass wrap around a cantilevered beat. Part nursery rhyme, part biblical parable, lyrics paint a vivid portrait of unrequited love: “Five four one, five oh two…What is the number? Sixteen West Sixty, what street is the street? There is a girl on the fourth or fifth floor, buzz at reception, slightly disheveled, ask for Jill, ask for Jill/She’ll run, she’ll hide, when you try to confide what you feel inside, what you feel inside.”
Veering away from the Punk/Power Pop paradigm, “Storm Warning” is something of a New Wave Rhumba. Peter is clearly a master when it comes to couching caustic and cutting criticism in crackling melodies. Stuttery rhythm guitar, Spanish-flavored electric riffs, thrumming bass and spiky keys are wed to a conga-fied groove. Lyrics offer up a withering critique of a striver trying to get through the day: “Put your head on the block and prepare for the shock, it will probaby hurt, not as much if you’d lost, all your life, you’ve been a loser all your life.”
Finally, “Ups And Downs” is prickly and pogo-riffic. Squiggly guitars connect with boinging bass, slinky keys and a caffeinated beat. Lyrics navigate the rocky shoals of a new romance: “There we were on the stairs, bat your eyes, unaware, up three fights to the sky, we could see miles and miles.”
Other interesting tracks include the hallucinogenic haze of “I Feel Good (Today),” the drowsy declaration of “Nothing Is Wrong” and the breakneck delight of “In Spain.” The reissue adds the subterranean instrumental “pH Factor,” but the album originally closed with the frenetic kiss-off of “Neverland.”
As good as their debut, Stands For DeciBels, was, with Repercussion, The dB’s raise the stakes exponentially. Quirky, sardonic lyrics partner with infectious melodies and inventive instrumentation. Peter and Chris’ crisp songcraft distills their myriad inspirations into a heady brew. This record simply crackles with authority.
