As one half of Quasi and a participant in a bunch of other activities, Portland, OR’s Sam Coomes has a rather imposing résumé, but until now he’s not released a solo LP. Bugger Me puts an end to this lack as the singer-songwriter-keyboardist goes it truly alone; the results ooze a compelling strangeness as honest-to-goodness songs are cloaked in home-recorded lo-fi finery via organ and rudimentary drum-box. Ripe with underlying complexity without clamoring for attention, it’s the kind of left-field record that could only be made by a veteran; it’s out now on vinyl, compact disc, and digital through No Quarter in the USA and Domino everywhere else.
Actually, describing Sam Coomes as a veteran is something of an understatement. First emerging on the scene in late ’80s San Francisco via the trio Donner Party, after their breakup in ’89 he split the Bay for Portland and formed Motorgoat with Janet Weiss. Proving a short-lived entity, Motorgoat gave way to the enduring combination of Weiss’ big beat and Coomes’ distorted keyboard tones in Quasi.
Plainly Coomes is adept at collaborating; joining Heatmiser in time for their final album, he subsequently contributed to the records of bandmate Elliott Smith and additionally chalked up extensive involvement with Built to Spill, played on The Go-Betweens’ The Friends of Rachel Worth and Jandek’s Portland Thursday and Seattle Friday, and helped turn Pink Mountains, Crock, and the Deep Fried Boogie Band into realities.
Blues Goblins could perhaps be considered as Coomes solo debut, except that in diving so deeply into a pool of blues covers the disc kinda registers as a one-off. That’s decidedly not the aura emanating from Bugger Me, a record its creator has described as “Suicide meets The Beach Boys,” with Coomes quick to emphasize the early “Surfer Girl” period over the later more sophisticated Pet Sounds.
He additionally mentions Chris Montez (“Let’s Dance”) and Timmy Thomas (“Why Can’t We Live Together”) as influences on the LP, and upon soaking up opener “Stride On” both namechecks make total sense, mainly through the use of organ but also the tangible pop streak; in his bio for the record Coomes calls it “entertainment music.”
To be sure, a casual listen to the set’s dozen tracks could easily inspire dismissals of mere home-taped fucking around, particularly if one gets hung up in the lo-fi gauze of “The Tucchus, Pt. 1” and its companion on Bugger Me’s second side. But deeper inspection reveals a real dedication to the sort of sincere non-sophisto ground-level material that flourished on the pop charts between the death of Buddy Holly and the refinements of The Beatles (and occasionally reared up afterward in artists like Thomas).
It’s the aspects redolent of Suicide that secure the album’s status as entertainment music for fringe dwellers. So, outsider pop? Well okay, except that’s a form often defined by its honesty, and Coomes differentiates what he’s offering as “honest artifice.” In an interview with The Stranger, he offered that “everything on the record is black and white,” an idea plainly extended to the sleeve and accompanying 16-page booklet.
There is also an observation in the bio connecting “honest artifice” to a preference for the original version of King Kong over the remakes. If all this seems like heavy-lifting the observations and connections do help to reinforce Bugger Me as far from slapdash in conception, and the off-kilter vibes of “Stride On” aren’t hard to grasp. “Tough Times in Plastic Land” resides closer to the Suicide end of the spectrum, even mentioning Ghost Rider (referring to the comic character that inspired Rev and Vega) as Coomes retains attention to melody.
It drifts into “Everybody Loves a War,” its organ suggesting a vaguely creepy carnival midway, an aura enhanced by the utterly basic rhythmic preset. “Shined It On” radiates a mild similarity to Daniel Johnston, albeit without a sense of strain amongst the weirdness, and it backs up the artist’s claim for the record as loaded with pop tunes; it blends into the pleasant instrumental “Lobotomy Eggs.”
In terms of nods to yesterday’s pop, the frequent refrain of the lyric “stranger in my own town” in “Cruisin Thru” brought Elvis to mind, and “Just Like the Rest,” while infused with swirling subterranean murk, maintains a grip on songlike structure. It leads to “Fordana,” which at this early juncture registers as the LP’s highlight as it mingles edgy organ-driven psych reminiscent of the early ’90s activities of Spacemen 3’s Sonic Boom (in the outfit Spectrum) with strains of bold emotionalism triggering thoughts of Mercury Rev.
Contrasting from that admittedly ornate description, “Corpse Rider” comes off like Rev and Vega crafting musical accompaniment for a Halloween haunted house, with just a smidge of Terry Riley in the organ. After “The Tucchus, Pt. 2” reinforces the disc’s residence in left field, the title track’s Suicide grind and sci-fi noise eruptions bring the finale.
In the end Bugger Me is the rare and refreshing solo effort more devoted to its process than concerned with stepping out into the spotlight; it’s unclear how many fresh converts Sam Coomes will attract, but long-time fans should be right at home.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
