Those nutty over ‘80s NYC noise-rock and its attendant loose categorization New Music have likely heard Karen Haglof, for she was a player in the guitar ensemble of Rhys Chatham and a member of the undersung Band of Susans. Haglof eventually redirected her energies into the medical profession as a hematologist/oncologist in affiliation with New York University Hospital, but of late she’s scratched a reignited creative itch and produced her debut solo effort, the very appealing blend of bluesy Americana and big city guitar pop Western Holiday.
Prior to moving to New York City Karen Haglof was a resident of Minneapolis and in fact that’s where she began playing music. Subsequent to a trip east she strapped on the six-string under the name Karen Indiana in the trio the Crackers with fellow Minneapolitans Jay Peck, later of the Figures and Let’s Active, and Steve Almaas, previously of the terrific Suicide Commandos (‘78’s Make a Record is a punk classic) and thereafter of Beat Rodeo.
By ’83 Haglof was in cahoots with Rhys Chatham, appearing on the composer’s Factor X, a now scarce LP issued by the German Moers Music label. Roughly three years later she was part of the side-long title composition on Chatham’s brilliant Die Donnergötter. Amongst her cohorts on the track was Robert Poss; together with future Helmet honcho Page Hamilton and drummer Ron Spitzer, Haglof comprised the second lineup of Poss and Susan Stenger’s Band of Susans, her axe a component on their strongest release, 89’s Love Agenda.
She then followed an admirable detour into a medical career. Losing tabs on the scene is not unusual in this circumstance (she’s described her occupational focus as workaholic), but along with conversations with her old (and recently departed) Minneapolis friend and guitar teacher Jeff Hill, catching a screening of the documentary It Might Get Loud helped to reignite Haglof’s creativity.
After working on a few tunes she sent the progress to her old Crackers’ partner Almaas, who lent not only his encouragement but also some lyrics. Haglof then completed 12 selections and Almaas signed on as the bassist for what became Western Holiday, a disc at first surprising in its melodic straightforwardness and accessible construction.
The title cut opens the proceedings with prominent blues-tinged slide, though her approach isn’t overbearing, Haglof seemingly disinterested in driving home any specious grittiness. Instead, her work on the strings combines with strong, unaffected vocals; when “Western Holiday” does kick into high gear mid-way through, the result is natural and unstrained.
The blues is reinforced via the mid-tempo throb of “Righteous Anger”; initially it couldn’t help but recall the ’89 hit “Black Velvet,” though broader scope (in particular the touches of piano from CP Roth) and bountiful non-clichéd stanzas methodically illuminate a winning undercurrent of New York art-pop from approximately the same era as Alannah Myles’ biggest US success.
Structurally, “Musician’s Girlfriend Blues” is exactly what’s promised in the title, the subject matter of the tune only reinforcing Haglof’s avoidance of borrowed and ultimately bogus life-experience; her impressive biography relates an artist that’s far from down-and-out and she’s not trying to fool anyone to the contrary.
However, it’s also the closest Haglof comes to extending a vibe I’d perhaps evaluate as being Upwardly Mobile. On one hand dangerous territory, but I really appreciate how unconflicted this ex-avant-garde/noise rocker is about reengaging with the art-form totally on her terms. “Musician’s Girlfriend Blues” is a track fans of Bonnie Raitt and Neko Case could easily and equally enjoy.
By contrast, Haglof’s art-roots do show a little more on “Danger Point,” and they remind me just a tad of Sue Garner combined with a somewhat citified Freakwater. The song inaugurates a trifecta of diversity, as “Don’t Straddle Fences” hones a tactfully country-ish mode into a glistening piece of airy pop (it managed to briefly inspire thoughts of the 4AD sound), and when things settle into a groove it reveals an unanticipated dynamic shift.
But even more unexpected is “Demon Soul Clap,” a sprightly number indeed possessing beaucoup mitt-slapping as it lands halfway between quirky and sophisto; If Western Holiday’s producer Almaas and mixer Mitch Easter (he also contributes additional slide to “Musician’s Girlfriend Blues”) had assisted Lucinda Williams in an album for the Bar/None label circa ’89, that LP’s single might’ve sounded a smidge like “Demon Soul Clap.”
“Saddle Bronc Rider/Barrel Girl” brings Haglof’s playing to the fore as the words depict characters with a refreshing clarity rooted in real life, the sojourns of the title based in the author’s personal travels. Again I’m reminded of Garner and Freakwater, and the aura of rockabilly in following track “Dog in the Yard” conjured mild associations with Exene Cervenka (both in X and solo), though Haglof’s bluesy angle aids the distinctive.
And with “Lincoln Letters” Western Holiday offers one of its bittersweet highpoints, the lead vocal duties temporarily handed-off to Faye Hunter. Partisans of ‘80s rock on the left side of the dial might recognize Hunter as a founder (with Easter and drummer Sara Romweber) of North Carolina’s Let’s Active, the bassist sadly gone too soon from suicide last year.
Here she delivers a tremendous performance at the microphone in tandem with the intensity and richness of Haglof’s playing, the leader freed-up to envelop the tune in cascading notes and chords that rise to meet Hunter’s essentially flawless execution. And I’m especially fond of Roth’s sturdy kick-drum during the verses and his deft cymbals accenting the chorus.
While it’s fair to assess Western Holiday as a tasteful collection, “24-Hour Prayer” finds Haglof turning up the volume and stepping on the wah-pedal across a stop-start arrangement and to productive effect. From there she shifts into a finger-picking zone and produces an almost coffeehouse folky atmosphere in “The Button Song,” so lovers of Jansch take note.
A solitary surf lick commences the excellent closer “Won’t Wake Up to You,” which radiates like a byproduct of a well-practiced early-‘80s guitar pop group (a la the Crackers, say) choosing to jettison a New Wave-ish/post-punkoid frame of mind and immediately electing to replace it with a smartly rootsy disposition (similar to Almaas’ intentions for Beat Rodeo).
Haglof spent significant time in or around the avant-garde, but upon consideration the developments on Western Holiday aren’t as curious as they first seem. And this is unquestionably her album; the aforementioned tastefulness might lessen the heft, but only very slightly, since Haglof’s skill and joie de vivre are attributes truly positive.
A couple dozen listens under the proverbial belt and I’m ready to draw comparisons to T-Bone Burnett’s early-‘80’s Proof Through the Night and “Trap Door” EP; actually, Haglof exhibits more range and is surely less moralistically ornery (or if you prefer, bitterly judgmental). Anybody into those Burnett slabs and/or the stuff cited above should give Western Holiday a try. It’s a fine recording from a veteran artist who after a long hiatus hasn’t lost a step.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
