I’d like to think this is the truest form of any record I’ve made, and I’ve gotten better at writing lyrics and playing guitar. It’s all influenced by those Drag City and Thrill Jockey bands, and that’s the music I’ve always loved and wanted to make. That comes a lot from Ryan and Bill and Andrew and all of the chemistry we had together. RW: Every other record is kind of a growth period of figuring things out, but I like to think I’ve settled into a sound I can dial into. SILY: What about Course in Fable is unique as compared to all of your other records? I haven’t hit any big snags yet, and I’m sure those will come in the future, but it’s really rewarding to put out music by friends and stuff I enjoy.
RW: That’s kind of the goal, and why any label starts. “I guess I’ll do this myself and hope it works.” So far, it’s working okay. SILY: You’re releasing records for others, too. For years, I kind of just coasted on hiring people to do all the work for me, but I’m in a position now to take that on and do a somewhat good job at it. It’s a lot more work, but I really enjoy it. I’m just happy to take it on my own, on my own timeline, and keep it close to the chest.
There’s no beef with any label or any falling out story or fodder for the readers. Ryley Walker: My contract ran up on Dead Oceans, and there were options to go back or find a new label, but I needed a job. Since I Left You: What made you want to start your own label after being on Dead Oceans for a long time? Read our conversation below, edited for length and clarity. His sense of calm and optimism, even in the face of a world full of darkness, was apparent and seems to have served him well in a year that’s culminating in him finally playing his new songs live again. I spoke to Walker over the phone from his apartment in Manhattan earlier this year before Course In Fable was released. Judging by its current roster, the risk to self-release paid off. While at this point, husky pants is home to albums by Chicago’s Luggage and Mukqs, an upcoming record from al Riggs, and Walker’s collaboration with one of his musical heroes, Gastr del Sol’s David Grubbs, in April, it was by far the label’s biggest release yet. (He listened to the audiobook of NOFX’s autobiography during the drive.) And when it came time to release the record, Walker, whose contract with Dead Oceans had run out, chose his own label. It was demoed in Chicago last June and recorded a year ago in Portland, Walker driving across the country in two days by himself. The start-to-finish Course In Fable must have been similar to what the Empty Bottle set was to Walker and his band: forward, fast-charging, and fun. Tempos change amiably on the skronking “Axis Bent” and jazzy “Clad With Bunk”, Walker letting out a “woo!” on the latter to introduce serious riffing. The wonderfully titled one-take “A Lenticular Slap” jams for a couple minutes before going into its verses and swaying chorus, circular guitar rhythms atop mathy stop-starts.
Though it’s rife with the same self-deprecating humor and references to past drug binges as his legendary Twitter account, Course In Fable sports positive vibes, especially in the dynamism of the instrumentation. Working with heavyweights like Tortoise’s John McEntire and string musician Douglas Jenkins (who provided all the string arrangements on the record), Walker’s latest is his most confident record. It was simultaneously the most technically impressive and loosest I’ve ever seen Walker, the same combination that renders Course In Fable his best album to date. And in revisiting his older catalog, Walker went full-on indie jam ( Deafman Glance’s “Opposite Middle”), prog (“Telluride Speed”), and prog-folk ( Golden Sings That Have Been Sung’s “The Halfwit In Me). They brought an immediately fried, buzzy vibe on “Striking Down Your Big Premiere”, Walker and MacKay in tune with their solos, and cooled off with the limber, gentle “Rang Dizzy”. Walker played with a band made up of guitarist Bill Mackay, bassist Andrew Scott Young (two main contributors to April’s Course In Fable, his first LP released on his own label husky pants records), and drummer Quin Kircher. Earlier this month, headlining the Empty Bottle’s fall block party, Ryley Walker joked, “How far did they have to go for me to headline?” to a crowd of fans who loved him for his banter just as much as his playing. “Osees weren’t available?” Funny enough, the music ended up just as raucous as those San Francisco psych rockers.
0 kommentar(er)
