Another Form of Relief

Every band I’ve ever loved has let me down eventually
The worst album will always be the last one
It’s a grower, yeah, but it never grew on me

I really should stop writing about Nosferatu D2. They never recorded anything properly and only played a handful of gigs, the last of which was a year and a half ago. Yet I still keep coming back to them.

It was the above lines in A Footnote that brought me back this time. I don’t know if it’s just the way things work, but it certainly holds true to my own tastes. Perhaps it’s the constant search for the next favourite that makes the previous one lose their appeal quickly. It could be something else entirely. It’s true though. There are a ton of bands where I adored the first album or two and now don’t even bother listening to what they put out. When I do listen, I tend to regret it and return to the older stuff. Maybe all bands should break up after one album or a set time period or something. It would certainly keep things fresh.

So I don’t know whether or not I’m saddened by the loss of Nosferatu D2 so quickly. Ben Parker is definitely one hell of a songwriter and is doing good stuff within his Superman Revenge Squad project. It’s kind of a shame that we won’t get to see what ND2 would have come up with, but at least they can’t eventually let me down.

Ed is Dead laments superb bands that are no longer with us. It’s named in honour of the Pixies song to remind us that even though it’s sad they split up, it’s far worse when they get back together.

The unfortunate thing about writing these pieces is that I realise how many great bands have broken up, and secondly, how the majority of my favourite music now tends to date back a decade. Which is odd given I wasn’t into most of this stuff back then. Yet I can still compare bands of now and then and lament that “they don’t make them like they used to”.

It was around eight years ago that I first listened to Pavement, which means they had already been broken up for a year at the time. A couple of years of scouring over most of their releases and I can consider myself a fan. A few years in my collection to mature and they become one of the greats. Now I hope for a new band to come along that sounds like this. I don’t know some generic guitar rock band that cites Pavement as an influence either. I want a band that embraces randomness, doesn’t make a great deal of sense and has a general feeling of not giving a shit. I suspect I’ll be waiting a while.

Until then, we’ve still got three classic records and a handful of other decent releases to make do with. It’s not like this is music that ages.

Ed is Dead laments superb bands that are no longer with us. It’s named in honour of the Pixies song to remind us that even though it’s sad they split up, it’s far worse when they get back together.

It’s hard to believe that it was nearly ten years ago that I first listened to Semisonic, of which their Feeling Strangely Fine album would become the first ‘proper’ album I would ever buy. It’s even harder to believe that the version of FNT that’s below is fifteen years old at this point. Another version of the song went on to appear on the 1996 Great Divide album, but this dates back to when they were putting out demos under the name Pleasure.

It’s kind of sad that they will seemingly forever be those one-hit wonders behind Closing Time, and perhaps, to a lesser extent in the UK, for Secret Smile. All three of their albums were loaded with superb songs, but they seem to be little more than a musical footnote at this point.

Semisonic were my ‘gateway band’ when it comes to indie. Even without a direct connection, it was this band that eventually led me to REM, to Weezer, to Nada Surf and to Ben Folds Five. Which isn’t to say that they are responsible for everything, but they were certainly a catalyst. An entire world of records that would rarely ever be played on the radio entered my sphere, and eventually I’ve ended up here.

Ed is Dead laments superb bands that are no longer with us. It’s named in honour of the Pixies song to remind us that even though it’s sad they split up, it’s far worse when they get back together.

Ikara Colt are one of those great undiscovered gems that arrived and left just a few years ahead of their time. They managed to release a couple of albums, both of which only scratched the surface of their potential. Coming across as sort of a cross between Sonic Youth and The Fall, they specialised it loud, fast and dirty guitar music. The band broke up in 2005, which apparently was the plan all along, and it’s members seem to have fallen off the edge of the earth.