The Crew Has Killed The Captain
a review by Phil Pierce
I went to the see David Bazan this past Sunday at Bowery Ballroom. Honestly, I wasn’t really looking forward to it. It was 40 degrees and rainy, overall bullshit weather, and I didn’t want to leave the house. I got there and some mediocre band with an upright bass player was the opener (Dave Godowski, in case you’re in the mood for acoustic music with predictable lyrics). I almost downed my overpriced Budweiser and went for another, but I decided to nurse it because it was, you know, overpriced, and dealt with the torture like a man.
Next up was Say Hi (who are also part of Bazan’s touring band). Not the greatest band name, but I’ll give them a break; I know all the good ones are taken. There isn’t much to say other than they were a solid band in almost every regard: Drumming, guitar and bass, vocals and background vocals. They didn’t have that spark I look for in a band though. Sorry Say Hi, your set was tight, but a little long for an opening band I’ve never heard of before, and you lacked fire.
Finally David Bazan went up. Bazan was on bass duty tonight, instead of his normal Tele. I was a little skeptical at first because the last time I saw him perform with Pedro the Lion, Jonathan Ford (Unwed Sailor and Roadside Monument) was playing bass, and totally killed it. To my surprise Bazan is a fantastic bass player, even while singing. Say Hi was on drums, guitar, and keys. They were holding it down like pros. The big surprise for me was the gray haired, bearded guitar player on the Strat in the corner. He was amazing! He played the perfect thing every time and had spot-on background vocals. I had visions of him being some long lost uncle of mine here to teach me how to slaughter my ax. Where the hell did this guy came from? Was he someone’s stepdad Bazan was friends with? Or maybe some homeless guy he saw playing on the street? The truth is not quite as romantic as my Budweiser visions. His name is Blake Wescott and he has been on Damien Jurado, Aaron Sprinkle, and Denison Witmer records. He fronted Bloomsday, and was a backing musician for REM and Crystal Skulls. This guy was no joke.
The show was brilliant, it made me remember why I like David Bazan so much and may have tipped the scales for me on the track “Bless This Mess” (although I still think it’s a bit forced, it worked live). I’m not going to go on and on about how great the live show was, because live shows are a moment and to try be the dad who’s going on and on about how amazing Dylan was at Woodstock while smoking a joint with his sixteen-year-old son to “bond” with him isn’t my thing. I’ll leave that for hippie dad turned investment banker. But if you have the opportunity to see David Bazan I’d highly recommend it.
You know what I find strange and confusing? The fact that Pitchfork and Stereogum haven’t reviewed David Bazan’s Curse Your Branches. Pitchfork can’t stop talking about, or posting songs from Weezer’s new album, which wages warfare on its fans ears and borders on negating the brilliance of their first two. Meanwhile, David Bazan is listed as #85 in Paste Magazine’s top 100 living song writers (sorry Rivers you didn’t make the cut on that one) so you’d think this album would be worth reviewing.
This is David Bazan’s first full length album since dropping the Pedro the Lion moniker. I would say “going solo,” but Pedro has been a revolving cast of band members with Bazan at the helm throughout their tenure.
On first listening to this album there is a noticeable sonic departure from the Pedro material, and even the sound-searching Fewer Moving Parts EP. The guitar work is more of a clean or slightly overdriven rock n’ roll sound and less of the epic sound of Pedro’s later work, which is quite refreshing. “Bearing Witness” has some cool Beatles via Elliott Smith style guitars and “Heavy Breath” is reminiscent of later Starflyer 59 guitar work. This album leans heavily on layered keys throughout most of it. There is real warmth to the keyboards and Rhodes, no thin, eighties Casio sounds. The rhythm section and background vocals tend to veer into pop territory, which counteracts the bleak lyrics. With this sonic direction it shows Bazan took his time and laid a solid musical landscape for the kind of lyrics that NPR and other critics have been labeling as “Breaking up with God.” Time works well for the music, but I think it gave Bazan the opportunity to overwork some of the lyrics, which is evident on “Bless This Mess.” When the background vocals for that track kicked in, my finger slid to the “skip” button on my iPod. But I didn’t do it. I let it ride. The problem with that song is that it throws the rest of the record off and I had to listen to the record a few more times before its teeth sink in.
This album was a grower for me, the last time I listened to it sounded better than the first. I’ve even woken up with “Please Baby, Please” rolling through my head on more than one occasion. Overall the lyrics work, but it has a few awkward moments. I guess it’s natural for drunken break-up conversations with God using evangelical jargon to come across as a bit awkward. Overall it’s a catchy, honest record that has some jabs, most notably on the cathedral-sounding “Lost My Shape” where Bazan talks about priests getting together with nuns instead of breaking little boy’s hearts. It’s a slightly over-the-top line that makes me happy Bazan is back in the game. This haunted, boozy line on “In Stitches” sums up the record for me: “The crew has killed the captain, but they can still hear his voice”. One disappointing thing about this record was that Blake Westcott only shows up on background vocals. Hey Bazan! Let’s get some Blake Westcott guitar love on the next record. I’m just sayin’, he was killer live. So yes, definitely give Curse Your Branches a listen…or two.
