Spectrals first arrived on the scene in 2009, but the big splash occurred for the project of UK-resident Louis Jones with the Slumberland Records release of the LP Bad Penny in 2011. It was a very good debut full-length which spent that much of its running time engaging with the sophisto sounds of the early-‘80s Postcard Records roster, but on Sob Story, Bad Penny’s slightly lesser but still quite likeable follow-up, Jones takes a detour into an unlikely place; mid-‘70s pub-rock.
Louis Jones, or “L,” as he is alternately known, has a rep as quite the pop auteur, with his work under the Spectrals moniker revealing a songwriter of appreciable talent and an attractively British penchant for the past. While the inclination to look upon olden times for inspiration is a universal one, the English manifestation of this urge, specifically a distinctive strain that corrals such worthy names as The Kinks, Television Personalities, Felt, and The Smiths, forms the tradition where Jones initially established himself.
After a self-titled cassette EP and a two-song 7-inch in 2009 on the Captured Tracks label, he knocked out a very nice record the following year on the Underwater Peoples imprint, the 7-song “A ‘Spectrals’ Extended Play” and a pair of 45s with three of the four tracks culled from the EP. These records increased Spectrals’ profile, but the first large-scale statement from Jones came through Bad Penny, an LP that in addition to drawing heavily upon the ‘80s Postcard-outfit Orange Juice, also brought flashes of those Smiths, top-notch New Zealanders The Chills, and even The Clientele to mind.
If solidly in the zone of all the names mentioned in the previous two paragraphs, an aspect of Jones’ vision that did set him somewhat apart was his hands-on involvement with Spectrals’ finished product. Where nearly all the predecessors in his particular strain of classique guitar pop worked within the framework of the band (even as they all had clear creative leaders), Jones instead elected to be the source of Spectrals’ entire instrumental palate.
It was a maneuver that positioned him as a crafty young upstart in the Phil Spector vein; a regular budding auteur, ‘ya dig? And this was unsurprising since the legendary producer was not only a stated influence but also an audible one on Spectrals’ early stuff. But if seemingly flagrantly auteurist in conception, the reality with nearly all auteurs (filmic or otherwise) is that they rarely do everything themselves, and by the recording of Bad Penny, Jones had handed over the drumming duties to his brother William and recruited additional musicians as touring members.
And Bad Penny was a promising debut loaded with honest-to-goodness songs, its main problem coming down to a mild sameiness that crept up as those high-quality tunes unfurled. However, very much in the album’s favor was the maturity of the songwriting, especially impressive for a guy of his relative inexperience. And along with his general craftiness with a tune came a depth that kept Bad Penny from registering as any kind of pastiche. No, the sounds Jones was extending were clearly in his veins, and in the expression he successfully claimed them as his own.
The thing that nagged most about Bad Penny wasn’t actually the LP itself, but rather the possibility of where Jones and his brother Jones were going to head in relation to the record’s biggest influence. To put a fine point on it; while I certainly enjoyed a whole lot of what the early Postcard scene had to offer, as many of the associated acts progressed they became so freaking urbane that their appeal was lost on me. And while it didn’t seem inevitable that Spectrals would follow this same avenue, it also felt more than a little likely.
Well, that turned out to be much ado about bupkis, for Sob Story presents a rather surprising detour, and one that falls right into Louis Jones’ wheelhouse as a historically-informed songsmith. The record’s press literature mentions such heavyweight tune-monsters as the Stones, Big Star, and Nick Lowe along with a few wildcards like Galaxie 500, Slade, and even Blink-182 (a name check that actually makes sense given Jones’ age), but the stated inspiration for the record is none other than the estimable Dave Edmunds, one of the cornerstones of pub-rock.
If initially an unlikely change of direction given Bad Penny’s Postcard leanings, as Sob Story unwinds it becomes clear that Jones loves his guitar too much to drift off into overly elegant territory. And while the similarity in the songs that marked his prior full length is largely absent, he also doesn’t hit the heights of the former LP, and not due to cautiousness but rather reverence for the source material.
Produced with skill by Chet “JR” White, formerly of San Fran outfit and Spectrals’ tour-mates Girls, Sob Story opens with the appealing kick of “Let Me Cave In,” but only after a quiet guitar intro that lasts nearly a minute. What’s revealed as the band enters the fray is not only their aptitude in conjuring the no-nonsense spark that defines the best in pub-rock, but also Jones’ growth as a singer.
On Bad Penny, Jones’ voice managed to get the moody job done, but here he’s stepped up to the mic with the confidence of a real front-man. And it’s this growth, rather than the strength of the songs, that ultimately makes Sob Story a worthwhile if minor ride. Helping out in this regard is the band, which includes White on bass and Jon Anderson (not the Yes guy) on additional guitar.
They proceed to cook up a good stew on “A Heartbeat Behind,” the song trucking along in prime-era Stiff terrain with Jones emoting like a dude who makes no bones about his favorite artist being Elvis Costello. And “Karaoke’ wields a big beat, a sturdy mid-tempo, a little bit of tasteful guitar flash, and some enhancing backing vocals. And very much in Sob Story’s favor is the bigness of its production sound. While not slick, it also has no qualms with the sort professionalism that Jones’ stated influences entertained.
And the musicianship never falters, instead offering insight into the sincerity and depth of the leader’s ambitions. The title track’s emotional downturn introduces Tom Haymen’s pedal steel into the mix, an ingredient that makes clear that Jones is giving more than lip service to the influence of Edmunds and pub-rock overall. After listening, it seems a cinch that Jones counts a Brinsley Schwarz album or two in his personal collection.
“Milky Way” picks up the pace and is the first song that really steps away from the prevailing mode of ‘70s classicism. The playing is uniformly strong, but unfortunately the writing, while still above average, isn’t amongst Jones’ best moments on Sob Story. “Friend Zone” does provide a nice rebound with a substantial slice of heart gush. It’s just voice, guitar, and pedal steel.
It’s the song on Sob Story that transcends the reverent and really goes for its own thing, and it proves that Jones is in possession of great talent. I also really like the following tune “Limousine,” the music connecting like an update on UK power pop killers like The Only Ones and The Records, with Jones’ vocals mildly reminiscent of the early vocalizing of Tom Petty, another of the names listed in the press kit.
“Something To Cry About” nuzzles up against the pop friendly mode of Lowe, Costello, and maybe even Squeeze, and through scrappy guitar, prominent bass and a chorus that diverts from the songs’ apparent role models, the cut succeeds. The following number “Blue Whatever” comes closest to the overall indie pop feel of Bad Penny, but the track’s toughness also keeps it in consort with Sob Story’s aims.
The nicely titled “Keep Your Magic out of My House” shoots for the same sort of rockabilly-derived chug that made Edmunds’ smash hit Smiley Lewis cover “I Hear You Knocking” such an out-of-time treat all the way back in 1970, and while Spectrals’ channeling of this atmosphere isn’t a mind-blower, to actually hear some youngsters grappling with it in the second decade of century 21 is a total gas, and is furthermore indicative of a certain kind of refreshing moxie on Jones’ part. That the song features a nifty strand of guitar strutting is just an added bonus.
From there the record avoids any major flaws with the crisp rocking of “Gentle” and one more dip into deep emotional waters with closer “In a Bad Way.” The verdict on Sob Story is that it avoids the dreaded sophomore slump through restraint and by exploring territory that’s in accord with Jones’ musical strengths. And while in the end it’s only a good solid pop-rock album in a contemporary field cluttered with contenders, I continue to find in Jones an interesting figure, and I’m very curious to hear what else he has in store.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B
