There is a world that exists outside of popular music, or even the culturally important “underground.” We all know it exists. We all know people making albums and laboring over their projects. For some reason or another, these albums and bands fall into the cracks in the floor of popularity; they fly over the cities that make the rules and no one looks up to see what kinds of jets are making all that racket above them.
We all know these bands from our college towns. Maybe we played in these bands. And we all know the bands that deservedly drew crowds or sounded better than the rest of us. We know those bands are/were amazing, and yet getting paid to make their music eludes them. Maybe they have jobs. Maybe they got kids or went back to school or got bored. Maybe they never got exposure. Maybe they weren’t they weren’t that good. None of it really matters, because these bands are the backbone of music. They are the reason I started really caring about music in the first place and the reason I write for this site. For me, they are Merge Records in the early 90s, Dischord for two decades, Lovitt Records in the Late 90s, et al.
All of that is, of course, paramount to me introducing you to Decoration Ghost. They are a piecemeal representation of several bands I loved in college. The names of the former bands are not important, but this current incarnation of all of them is. For the first time since I left, I feel connected to my college town and not for nostalgic principles. It’s because I really like The Haze of Wine and Age. Allow me to shut the fuck up about the past I usually refuse to acknowledge and tell you why it’s good; you know– the meat of the review.
The opening track, “Father’s Fist” is a rocker. The drums attack and the distorted guitars lead. It’s all I want in an opener, actually. Quiet-loud dynamics, driving bass and introspective, emotive lyrics involving drinking. As the song uses an instrumental rock-out to finish up, it’s obvious that this album is going to, at very least, kick ass. All this to lead into the best song on the album, “The Haze of Wine and Age.” The simple intro– each instrument begins a measure after the preceding– leads into back-and-forth vocals. As the vocals feed off of each other, the chorus turns into a raucous sing-along: “The crowd that owns you,/ so go back go back go back now…” The song, at times, has personal albeit vague lyrics, but the payoff is to look around you, headphones on, and study your surroundings. “Put your orange neon on try to blend in with the crowd.”
The next two songs, “I Thought You Were Night Courting” and “Camera Bag and a Backpack” are the continuation of a fantastic ethos: keep pounding. The songs roam through short, well-maintained songwriting. “Camera Back” spins a simple yarn about a hike and like many of the songs, digests easily. The vocals are a strong point in the song– not something that is always true in an album so hellbent on making the listener focus on rhythmic beats and big rock riffs.
Speaking of big riffs, “Unpaid Actors” is a beautiful example of what is right with The Haze of Wine and Age. It is a short, strong representation of their talents– nice early riffs leading into a big, angry yell-off. There’s even a tidy metaphor. And speaking of metaphors, the best lyrics on the album belong to “Thick Tan Rope.” No reason to disseminate them, they speak well for themselves here. The song itself is a mid-tempo jam that rises nicely from a subdued intro and middle. It’s a “sea-soaked dream” in their own words and a beautiful lead in to the tail end of Haze.
Though simple, the rhythm lead-in to “Repay the Spark” pays the listener in spades as it explodes into a great opening line: “Cigarette, it probably saved our lives.” LaFollette’s bass throughout is remarkably loud and necessary as the vocals meander through the layout of the song– it seems the verses and chorus are basically interchangeable (not a detriment in the least). As the album winds down into “Horizon,” another rocker in the vein of “Father’s Fist,” the entire band gets in on the vocals. It’s almost as if they are describing the horizon of the album itself: the end is really not an ending but an invitation to continue listening. All of them have been making music for so long, that at this point there’s no ending to an album other than the continuation of the next.
That’s exactly why the forgotten and overlooked rock albums we cherish are so goddamned important. There is no greater feeling than listening to an album that’s roots grow within you, except when that album is outstanding. My first listen to this was a wary one. That mistake was not repeated. I opened up to the album as though it was hyped; as though people throughout the cultural ranks had been telling me that this was the anthem of the winter. My reward was an anthem not only for the winter, but for a long time to come. There is a musical world that exists outside of the plane we’ve been introduced to. It may not have the production value, the studio tricks or the guest stars. It may not inspire blogs with fancy typesets or sell a ton of records. It’s fucking earnest, though, and soulful. It’s just as talented a world, with more to prove. It’s too important to ignore.
One last note: do yourself a favor and watch these. They will be the most important videos you watch all day. The Often Awesome Army is fighting ALS because they fucking believe in someone. Decoration Ghost isn’t just another name to add to itunes. I promise you, it will matter more than my lame opinions. Also, click to buy this album. Please. Thanks.