CD: Pain Is A Reliable Signal

When we last checked in with Sam Jacobs, we were reviewing the latest release from LiPSTIK – the EP “There Is Only One Thing”. At the time, work on the follow-up full length was already underway – and it has finally arrived, along with a name change for the group to “The Flying Change”. Lest you think that was off the cuff, it was inspired by the poetry of family friend and Pulitzer-prize winner, Henry Taylor, who happened to be the college roommate of Sam’s father. Swish!

This is one of the reasons why I like Sam and his music so much – take a look at the blog over at www.theflyingchange.com when you have a few minutes to kill, and you’ll see that this is a thoughtful dude who likes to have meaning and substance behind his art (and his thoughts about what constitutes “art” and good music are right along the lines of what we argue about so often on the podcast). Better yet, that intellectual and artistic framework is there if you’re into that sort of thing, but you’re not beat over the head with it – a sentiment that some people seem to have walked away with from the latest Andrew Bird outing.

Anyway – the new full length. Probably one of the strongest endorsements was blindly playing the track “Dirty White Coats” for Jeff – who said “wow, that is a fantastic song – who is that?” Indeed, on an album full of high points, that track is probably my favorite – with its gentle ukulele, strings, and harmonies – it obscures the dark subject matter: “it’s about how doctors (well some doctors at least) can cause great harm and pain and how the process of sticking needles and tubes and machines in people, at least intuitively, seems to run contrary to the notion of making them feel better”. That insight will produce one of those “woah” moments during your second or third spin of the track…but that has always been Sam’s calling card: “painful words over uplifting music”.

That’s not to say that the whole album is heavy in that sort of way though – in fact, there are some downright rockers (“St. Mary’s”), and the playful take on the subway slogan “if you see something, say something” on the track “If You See Something”, is purely infectious.

In a nutshell, when you listen to the first song and the smoky vocals kick in, the first reaction may be “ah, OK – this will fit nicely alongside my Bon Iver, Iron & Wine, and Over The Rhine albums”. But don’t be fooled – this album is a journey, and it echoes of many different locales, emotions, and musical influences. As you progress, you’ll first start to notice all of the tasteful instrumentation filling out the arrangements (horns, flute, strings…and, you cheeky devil, is that a harpsichord in there?), and then the strength of the rhythms hits you. For me they evoke a more subdued version of “The Honeymoon Is Over” by The Cruel Sea (a fantastic old gem worth hunting down itself) and the production of one of my favorite albums of all time, Willie Nelson’s “Teatro”.

The Flying Change. What’s in a name? Nothing. The proof is in the pudding – and this one is rich, complex, and worth a sample. Join the conversation and enjoy the ride.

More: www.theflyingchange.com

- Russ Starke

EP: “There Is Only One Thing”

“LiPSTIK”? When I first saw that name I thought it was probably another of the legion of bands trying to jump on the already tired glam-rock revival or maybe it was a band that’d be sharing the bill with Limozeen. I was pleasantly surprised to find out otherwise. I spoke to main man Sam Jacobs about the moniker and here’s what he had to say:

“Good question. It was kind of inspired by Greil Marcus’s book ‘Lipstick Traces’ which was a history of the punk/dada movement through the 20th century. But I’m also kind of obsessed with duality and contradiction. Subverting expectations. Painful words over uplifting music. That kind of thing. I liked the idea that peoples’ assumptions about me, about the songs, about all kinds of things, can be undermined. Over time I’ll be happy if people associate the name with what I’m doing instead of the glam rock idea that would normally come to their minds. That the name will become its own association. Like what happens when people think of ‘Wilco’ or ‘Talking Heads’. These phrases and words that have taken on the life of the music itself.”

Not bad, eh? So are we all on board? Good, let’s move on. The new EP is called “There Is Only One Thing” and I’m here to tell you about it, folks.

Sam wastes no time diving into those bittersweet/painful words straight away on the title track, with its rolling and rhythmic undertow. Sam’s vocal style elicits quick flashes of other singers we may be more familiar with (Jacob Dylan, Mark Sandman, Mike Doughty, Kurt Wagner, Philly’s own Craig Elkins), but ultimately reclaims its own distinct sound: the voice of a regular Joe making his way out to the car at 5:30 in the morning, bleary but accepting of his fate – though unmistakably looking forward to the sunrise. This song also re-establishes the rootsy rock instrumental palette from the excellent 2006 full length “Everything Is Good,” but the pace is changed on this new collection. We’re definitely more pensive and brooding.

“This is The Sad Song We Wrote Together” is a tune that sticks with you long after each listen, with a sweetly resigned chorus that sounds exactly like the pictures of forgotten industrial towns and train cars in the Midwestern cold that are pictured in the liner notes of the EP. It’s got a deceptively bouncy if sleepy groove holding it up (with incredibly tasteful and restrained drum fills) that sounds like it could be a Jack Johnson song if he was a bit less like that turtle from Finding Nemo (and put some damn shoes on for a change).

“Yer So Bad” is of course a stab at the Tom Petty staple, but reinvented in a way that too few covers attempt. I confess that I never saw much depth in the original and it mainly floated around behind me with little impact, but after hearing this I’ve got a newfound respect for the song thanks to Sam’s ability to wrench the meaning out of the lyrics. He has a bit of a penchant for this, as we also saw on the dark cover of “Lyin’ Eyes” from the aforementioned full length that brought the song closer to the emotion of “Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love To Town” than the yacht-rock extravaganza of the Eagles version.

“There Is Nowhere To Run”” is a curious cliffhanger of a closer with sort of a “Someday Never Comes” sentiment but without the emotional release of a louder, faster passage that lets you off the hook. The sunrise does seem to be slowly peeking over the horizon at the end here, but we may have to wait until the next full length (“Pain Is A Reliable Signal,” currently underway along with additional planned releases) to see where our protagonist winds up next.

This is a record for a late night or a lonely drive, born of “getting broken and knocked around” – a quick yet powerful listen. Very satisfying!

Russ Starke