It appears that Shimmy Disc is back from suspended project hell. Over a decade after the owner and post-punk dynast, formally know as Kramer, had to wind-down his magical music box of a label following a series of lawsuits (the complexities of which could be the subject of their own law school course), likeminded experimental label Joyful Noise has generously extended its hand to Kramer and Shimmy to get them back on their feet. Presently, Kramer is one of a dozen named curators of Joyful Noise's White Label Series (an ambitious reissue and mail order vinyl project that you can learn more about here), as well as the label's current artist in residence. Joyful Noise clearly has a lot of faith in Kramer and a deep love for his past work. Possibly too much? I have a lot of love and appreciation for Frank Black, but I would never give him half the control over my blog as Joyful Noise has given Kramer over their 2020 operations. And believe me, there is no money coming in or going out of my corner of the internet, so good on them for taking risks and making such a big investment in Kramer's come back.
The first release on offer from the Galaxie 500 producer and Butthole Surfer bassist as part of his residency/revival/one-man-renaissance is a new project in collaboration UK singer Xan Tyler, which they are calling Let It Come Down. Their debut album is Songs We Sang In Our Dreams. It is a collection of songs that Kramer has apparently been working on for decades, and which have finally coalesced around Tyler's whimsical and articulate singing style sometime after their work on a three-track single in 2015. So how is Kramer's maiden voyage with Joyful Noise? Smooth sailing so far, I'd say.
Let It Come Down is a complex, slowcore inflected reimagining of English folk with elements of sound collage and south American jazz seamlessly woven throughout. What captured my attention immediately about tracks like "Monday" and "Tomorrow" was just how goddamned sad they sounded. Repetitious portrayals of loss focused through the lens of modern guilt and regret. There is a romance to sad songs that I find irresistible. There are few loves that I know in this world as satisfying as a melody that feels like it is stabbing you in the heart with each refrain. I can listen to Chelsea Wolf I want to hear maudlin contemporary folk songs, though. Kramer and Tyler also knead together dream-like sequences, anchored by snippets of captured dialog and detritus, that speak of paranoid repudiations ("One Moon") and wincing domestic ambition ("Three Wishes"). And if you need something slightly less experimental, or dare I say, upbeat, you can always try out the slightly varnished sanguine tones of the Beatles-esque "Forget," or the Sergio Mendes eyeing, cool tropical patter of "Fingers." It's not so much that Tyler and Kramer are changing the channel every three minutes, as much as they are telling stories with intersecting plot threads, and they don't seem to mind interrupting one to pick up where they left off with another. This might not be for everyone, but you can't claim that it isn't at least interesting what they are attempting to accomplish here.
At times Songs We Sang In Our Dreams feels like three separate albums climbing on top of each other and vying for your attention, but after awhile the logic of Kramer's and Tyler's method begins to click and you start to see how all the parts fit together to form a meticulously manufactured apparatus of sound. You kind of have to think of yourself as being in a dark theater, and each track is like a short film in a series. Not every film as the same characters, but they all tell one contiguous story. This may sound overly complicated, but it is also a way of organizing an album that rewards careful and repeat listens. To its credit Songs We Sang In Our Dreams is not as Rube Goldbergian as some producer lead projects can be. It limits itself to a few, narrowly defined, if uniquely crafted motifs, that it examines from multiple angles and in different lighting before drawing to a conclusion. Aesthetic restraint and careful refinement I think are what keeps this album from wandering too far off course, with a result that is varied, impactful, and which left me very much interested in hearing more.
