Things Haven’t Gone Well is veteran bassist Stephen Tanner’s debut under the moniker Music Blues. A true solo effort, the record’s 11 tracks delve headfirst into topics most folks consciously try to avoid; depression, failure, and the inescapable disappointment of existence. A challenging yet consistently rigorous and ultimately rewarding collection, it arrives this week on CD, digital and aptly, double shit brown vinyl through the Thrill Jockey label of Chicago.
The promo-lit for Things Haven’t Gone Well explains that in the period after the death of his friend Jerry Fuchs (notable as the drummer for LCD Soundsystem, Turing Machine and !!!), Stephen Tanner crashed on the couch in the Georgia home of Creston Spires, his cohort in experimental sludge kingpins Harvey Milk. In the attempt to write that band’s next album he found himself drinking and watching six hours of the original Beverly Hills 90210 a day.
I can identify with that, though not specifically; during a personal mid-‘90s rough patch the viewing choice of this night-owl was early AM reruns of Law & Order on the A&E Network. And I have caught a few episodes of 90210 over the years, but by now the memory banks are a bit foggy; these days I mainly recall the program for providing a nascent example of Wayne Coyne’s increasingly relentless use of incongruence as promotional strategy via a guest spot by The Flaming Lips.
It’s been reported the Lips got the gig because Pavement turned it down; however, this is probably an untruth fueled in part by the lyrics to the Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain song “Unfair.” Indisputable though is the Flaming Lips and Pavement helping to define a musical era, and one that Harvey Milk existed in without much fanfare.
The initial run of the Melvins-impacted Athens, GA group was ’92-’98, and due to passionate posthumous advocacy largely from other bands they reformed in the latter half of last decade, coming back with a demeanor only slightly less uncompromising, a smidge more rocking and just as stylistically precise (in addition to Melvins the band’s cited influences are Earth and the undersung Dutch instrumental outfit Gore, plus old hands ZZ Top, Kiss, and Judas Priest). Unsurprisingly, on their second go they cultivated a small but fervent following.
Instead of a new slab of Harvey Milk, the sofa-surfing Tanner produced the avant-metal extremity of Things Haven’t Gone Well, a disc written and recorded in Spires’ pad and the bassist’s Brooklyn apartment. While the line tethering this to his prior work is easily discernible, the unflagging devotion to subject matter (and in purely musical terms) will likely test the patience of as many fans as are satisfied.
The song titles on the LP form a bleakly humorous narrative, with opener “91771” signifying the date of Tanner’s birth (coincidentally, it’s the zip code of Rosemead CA, a location not terribly far from those aforementioned Hills of Beverly). Appropriately ceremonial, its sludgy doom-laden atmosphere unwinds at a deliberate and heavy pace, thunderous drums combining with amplifier residue thick as refrigerated chunky peanut butter and offering just a hint of blues-descended bastardization amidst the metallic bombast.
The riffs grow even more densely titanic in the lengthier “Premature Caesarean Removal Delivery,” controlled distortion defying gravity. Hanging in the air throughout the concussive slow-motion assault are softball-sized clots of soured and moldy Blue Cheer brand cottage cheese. Tanner’s environment hath adjusted from epic to methodical.
In isolation, the track is an adequate hunk of chewed-up gristle; to truly bloom into discomfiting life, it needs to be spat out of the speakers in album context. This is even truer of the brief “Teach the Children,” which holds a snippet of the CSN&Y non-classic slowed to a slobbering, purple drank-induced crawl. It’s chiefly a sardonic table setting for the textural alteration of “Hopelessness and Worthlessness,” the drum laying out for an extended torrent of amp ooze fitting its title. A less heavy excursion but one still thick as ceiling spackle; it emphasizes Tanner as an effective conveyor of mood.
He also infuses Things Haven’t Gone Well with subtle range. The drum reemerges for “Trying and Giving Up,” and the ambiance luxuriates in prime Southern Lord territory. But in just a little over ninety seconds Tanner takes a short detour into a field of ominous throb that’s additionally slathered in damaged blues-rock guitar. For the ending he takes the first off-ramp back to Doomsville.
A lesser affair could’ve very possibly conjured a nagging lack of depth in the relationship between the individual selections and their assigned titles. Frankly, when dealing with the topic of “Great Depression,” a shortage of the thoughtful would surely relay a deleterious effect. Things Haven’t Gone Well’s humorous facet is frequent and crucial, but it’s never in poor taste, and is absent on the 2LP’s centerpiece.
In its place is a tonal glacier so forbidding the rhythm is sapped of all heaviness; instead, it’s seemingly fighting for mere survival, in particular the cymbals…those poor, poor cymbals. By contrast, “Failure” brandishes considerably wider sonic breadth, its strains of doom stemming from layered guitar and an echoing drum sound a tad reminiscent of ambient-industrial. It ends rather abruptly and leads into “Death March;” quickly established and comparatively restrained, the cut almost immediately begins fading out.
Beginning with a somewhat accessible prelude, “It’s Not Going to Get Better” shifts into a progression that can be accurately described as a groove. While never approaching a mid-tempo, it does find Tanner’s exploration of a template resembling tangible hooks getting within spitting distance of trad hard rock/heavy metal.
“Tremendous Misery Sets In” continues to investigate riffs more sludgy than doomy as it sports an unwavering, possibly looped rhythm; near its conclusion are mangled strands of bluesy feeling. This gives way to the bona fide rocking of “The Price is Wrong;” it doesn’t achieve a pace really suitable for noggin banging but could certainly motivate a few fist pumps, and the finale actually inspired this writer to laugh out loud (sorry, no spoilers).
“Bonus Track,” which appears to be included on all of Things Haven’t Gone Well’s configurations, is fairly concise but far from ephemeral; it diverges significantly though not discordantly from the rest of the record, momentarily wielding an attack remindful of later Black Flag and featuring copious spurts of ‘80s synth halfway between Darkwave and the soundtrack to some forgotten low-budget sleaze financed by the Cannon Group.
Once we get past the inherent unpleasantness of what’s basically a concept album, Things Haven’t Gone Well unravels as less of a provocation than is perhaps casually gathered by its titles and uncomely cover. Tanner’s also not pointing any fingers. No, this release connects as an examination of the often hidden turmoil that can plague the downtrodden and dispossessed. It gives voice to anybody that’s ever been unable to turn off the set, rise from the couch and face life’s harsh reality.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
