ARTIST: The Narrator
TITLE: All That to the Wall
LABEL: Flameshovel Records
GENRE: Indie
BITRATE: 170kbps avg
PLAYTIME: 0h 41m total
RELEASE DATE: 2007-05-15
RIP DATE: 2007-04-17
Track List
----------
1. Son Of The Son Of The Kiss Of 3:55
Death
2. August 32nd 2:44
3. Speeding Up The Gang 4:11
4. SurfJew 3:04
5. Panic At Puppy Beach 4:07
6. All The Tired Horses 3:39
7. Start Parking 3:35
8. Papal Airways 2:52
9. Breaking The Turtle 4:27
10. A Decade In Kentucky 5:31
11. Chocolate Windchimes 3:33
Release Notes:
The members of The Narrator live in Chicago, but none of them are from there.
Singer/guitarist Sam Axelrod is from uptown Manhattan. Bassist James Barron is
from downriver Detroit and singer/guitarist Jesse Woghin is from all over, but
mostly Long Island and Dallas. TheyÆve been around for a few years, driven
around the country a bunch and made a few recordings, all of which are on
Flameshovel, the label they love. Perhaps their greatest aspirations lie with
continuing to do the things they do and have people come to their shows and
enjoy them. It doesnÆt seem like much, but really it is.
During the writing of their new album, All That to the Wall, The Narrator
underwent some pretty heavy changes, which included the departure of their
drummer. Maybe this slimming down further forced the boys in a direction they
were already headed, or maybe it served to remind them of what they loved about
being here in the first place. Regardless, the band hunkered down in the studio
and brought along friends û and mostly label mates û from the likes of Oxford
Collapse, Russian Circles, Bound Stems, Sybris, Tight Phantomz and Lying In
States to help make things right. Ultimately, the-new-look-Narrator has
resurfaced as the delicious popcorn these kernels have always had inside of
them, making a record that theyÆre truly proud of and really want you to hear.
Due to their general dislike of most band bios, weÆve asked Sam to continue this
informative missive with his song-by-song comments for All That to the Wall:
01. ôSon of the Son of the Kiss of Deathö û ItÆs only fitting that we opened the
record with fake drums considering the fact that we didnÆt really have a drummer
at the time. Dave [Turncrantz] from Russian Circles plays drums on half the
record. He generally plays on the darker and/or heavier songs. Plays like a
monster. We were very fortunate to have him.
02. ôAugust 32ndôû Dan [Fetherston] from Oxford Collapse plays drums on the
other half. HeÆs the one who kinda sounds like an amped-up Bill Berry. He plays
on more of the lighter and/or poppier songs. It was his idea to ôNu Bruiseö the
drums at the beginning of this one. Good call. This is the first song I know of
to contain the phrase ôfields of koosh.ö
03. ôSpeeding up the Gangö û This song expands on that Blink-182 song that goes
ôWork sucks, I knowàö I took that and really ran with it.
04. ôSurfJewö û The hit. In the ever popular key of Eb, maybe. Somehow we could
never come up with a better title.
05. ôPanic at Puppy Beachö û Against [engineer Mike] LustÆs wishes we tried to
find the most Winwood-esque keyboard sound possible for this one. One review of
our 1st album [Such Triumph, 2005] predicted something about us ôpussying outö
on our next record. Wonder how that guy will feel about this song. Or the next
one.
06. ôAll the Tired Horsesö û Bob Dylan cover from the rarely acclaimed Self
Portrait LP. Recorded the vocals in the middle of the night with all three of us
on one mic in the hallway of the spooky industrial building that Phantom Manor
resides in. The ballad that is the B-side of the SurfJew 7ö was originally
supposed to be on the album, but everyone agreed that this one was too good not
to be included on the album, so we flipped æem.
07. ôStart Parkingö û Huck Finn on the banks of the Mississippi. No crocodile
tears in the city of redemption. The day our band became a trio, a little drunk
roughhousing led to me slightly breaking the index finger on my fretting hand,
which in turn created the droney ôsplintö note that carries throughout the first
half of the song.
08. ôPapal Airwaysö û An older, significantly more inferior version of this song
appears on a compilation that just might be the coaster your beer is residing on
right now. Speaking of comps, if anyone knows where Ken Whatshisname from Iowa
has been hiding, please let us know. We mailed him an inferior version of a
different song years ago for his comp that was seemingly never released. Also,
for those air-drumming along at home, you can find my favorite fill on the
record at 2:04 here.
09. ôBreaking the Turtleö û Song for the singer of Russian Circles. I know what
youÆre thinking: whereÆs the bass? No bass! If it was good enough for the Doorsà
Apologies from our band to the entire city of New London, CT.
10. ôA Decade in Kentuckyö û It always bugs me when bands put their two longest
songs next to each other on an album, yet somehow we went ahead and did it
anyway. I hate us. The commotion heard towards the end of this song consists of
the gang making a racket with anything loud we could find in the studio. Lust
chose to make his noise by flying into the room, knocking us all down and
spitting beer in my face.
11. ôChocolate Windchimesö û I think JesseÆs lyrics here are the best heÆs ever
written. As the self-appointed sentimentalist of the band I was near tears the
first few times we listened to it in mixing. Except for some reason I canÆt
actually cry. ItÆs cool. Arguably the 2nd guitar solo in Narrator history. Also,
as far as IÆm concerned, anyone who can navigate Pittsburgh in the dark is a
fucking genius.
In closing, somewhere along the way, while trying to make a record about
weather, geography, religion, sex, nostalgia, hanging out, waiting, aging,
quitting and leaving, The Narrator accidentally made one about the end of their
band. Oops. This seems a little presumptuous or pretentious; weÆre not entirely
sure which one. In these post-modern times, though, interpretation is the best
part. Regardless of your choice and regardless of whether or not they make
another album, All That to the Wall is already standing the test of time, as
itÆs the tale thatÆs spun in getting there thatÆs the best part. Or as Aerosmith
put it in some crappy 80Æs song: ôLifeÆs a journey, not a destination.ö Or
something like that.