Dear, sweet lord. It's the weekend.
Sometimes life is a grind. Sometimes we feel like we have to grind away just to get through the week. Sometimes I don't want my peaceful, quiet trip hop and techno tunes. Sometimes I want the gritty, folksy down-to-earth rock of a songwriter. Someone who can tell a story. But it has to have some teeth, as well. There's a fantastic old album no one seems to listen to anymore that I love to put on for a little relief on a day like this. That album? Sparkle and Fade by Everclear.
Everclear are a strange band. They had a big hit in 1995 with 'Santa Monica', the biggest single off of their major label debut, Sparkle and Fade. This album broke them out in a major way. Their followup So Much for the Afterglow had a few hits but since then it's all been downhill. The band basically hit it big in the late 90s and never hit those heights again. While the sole consistent member, front man Art Alexakis, has toiled away on the band and their albums over the years, this first big album of theirs, with it's California Surf-tinged elements, has always had a special place in my heart.
Is that a weird thing to say about a seemingly random grunge album from 16 years ago? Maybe. But I like it anyway. It's very du jour - it amazes me the songs were singles and played on the radio and MTV. Hearing what's popular now makes the songs in question here feel so normal and straight forward. In a way, though, that's exactly what it is about this album that I love. It's that simple ability to write and play these songs with no pretension and complication that I love so much. The band is a very nuts and bolts outfit - drums, guitar, bass. That's it. Nothing too fancy, just catchy mid-tempo riffs. Oh, and a songwriter who shone quite brightly for an entire album. Alexakis wrote from the heart here, pulling pieces of his childhood out of his memories and using them to craft these deeply personal and human songs about broken people and their hopes. It sounds corny, I know, but hearing it from such an earnest performer makes it work.
From the dirty little lick that opens the album in 'Electra Made Me Blind', you know what kind of album you're getting into. The songs have some balls. Art sings his heart out. The band plays with steadfast conviction, making simple songs sound strong. Alexakis mines the personal tragedy of his brother's death from an overdose to add terrible weight to 'Heroin Girl', a tragic song that buzzes and drowns in distortion. The mega-pop of 'You Make Me Feel Like A Whore' and 'Santa Monica' take what are quite bleak topics and makes them irresistibly catchy and rocking numbers. The guitar riffs are huge and cliched in the best way only the 90s could produce. There are also sweet and heartbreaking songs, like the saccharine poison of 'Strawberry' with it's shimmering, strummed acoustics. 'Nehalem' is a punchy little punk number that barely clocks in under two minutes but paints a full picture of a breaking couple in a small town. The stealth breakout number, though, is the tragic 'Queen of the Air', where Alexakis tells a story about a man realizing he witnessed something horrible as a child. It's a fantastic song with some personal and haunting lyrics, despite the dreamy alt-rock that backs it.
Sometimes I wish Everclear were still huge. I'm okay with their decline, though. I still have this great, under appreciated album that makes me feel better after a long week. Life is better when you have something secret and personal to give you a little hidden pleasure. No one I know knows about this album other than the big single. That just makes me love it that much more. So I thought I'd share it with you - to let you in on a secret in the hopes that it means something to you like it does for me.
Sometimes life is a grind. Sometimes we feel like we have to grind away just to get through the week. Sometimes I don't want my peaceful, quiet trip hop and techno tunes. Sometimes I want the gritty, folksy down-to-earth rock of a songwriter. Someone who can tell a story. But it has to have some teeth, as well. There's a fantastic old album no one seems to listen to anymore that I love to put on for a little relief on a day like this. That album? Sparkle and Fade by Everclear.
Everclear are a strange band. They had a big hit in 1995 with 'Santa Monica', the biggest single off of their major label debut, Sparkle and Fade. This album broke them out in a major way. Their followup So Much for the Afterglow had a few hits but since then it's all been downhill. The band basically hit it big in the late 90s and never hit those heights again. While the sole consistent member, front man Art Alexakis, has toiled away on the band and their albums over the years, this first big album of theirs, with it's California Surf-tinged elements, has always had a special place in my heart.
Is that a weird thing to say about a seemingly random grunge album from 16 years ago? Maybe. But I like it anyway. It's very du jour - it amazes me the songs were singles and played on the radio and MTV. Hearing what's popular now makes the songs in question here feel so normal and straight forward. In a way, though, that's exactly what it is about this album that I love. It's that simple ability to write and play these songs with no pretension and complication that I love so much. The band is a very nuts and bolts outfit - drums, guitar, bass. That's it. Nothing too fancy, just catchy mid-tempo riffs. Oh, and a songwriter who shone quite brightly for an entire album. Alexakis wrote from the heart here, pulling pieces of his childhood out of his memories and using them to craft these deeply personal and human songs about broken people and their hopes. It sounds corny, I know, but hearing it from such an earnest performer makes it work.
From the dirty little lick that opens the album in 'Electra Made Me Blind', you know what kind of album you're getting into. The songs have some balls. Art sings his heart out. The band plays with steadfast conviction, making simple songs sound strong. Alexakis mines the personal tragedy of his brother's death from an overdose to add terrible weight to 'Heroin Girl', a tragic song that buzzes and drowns in distortion. The mega-pop of 'You Make Me Feel Like A Whore' and 'Santa Monica' take what are quite bleak topics and makes them irresistibly catchy and rocking numbers. The guitar riffs are huge and cliched in the best way only the 90s could produce. There are also sweet and heartbreaking songs, like the saccharine poison of 'Strawberry' with it's shimmering, strummed acoustics. 'Nehalem' is a punchy little punk number that barely clocks in under two minutes but paints a full picture of a breaking couple in a small town. The stealth breakout number, though, is the tragic 'Queen of the Air', where Alexakis tells a story about a man realizing he witnessed something horrible as a child. It's a fantastic song with some personal and haunting lyrics, despite the dreamy alt-rock that backs it.
Sometimes I wish Everclear were still huge. I'm okay with their decline, though. I still have this great, under appreciated album that makes me feel better after a long week. Life is better when you have something secret and personal to give you a little hidden pleasure. No one I know knows about this album other than the big single. That just makes me love it that much more. So I thought I'd share it with you - to let you in on a secret in the hopes that it means something to you like it does for me.