The Dollar Bin, Vol. 3: The Verlaines -Way Out Where

After three solid, occasionally stunning albums and a handful of exemplary, classic single and EP tracks, The Verlaines, like fellow New Zealand/Flying Nun cult figures the Chills, got their purported shot at the major label brass ring with Slash Records during the early 90s alterna-rush.  After a fantastic 1991 LP, Ready To Fly, which didn’t,  The Verlaines in 1993 presented Slash Records with heir latest effort, Way Out Where, which Slash wrapped in a hideously ugly cover and shipped directly to Best Buy dollar baskets.  Called up to stand at the major-label plate, the Verlaines delivered a pair of extra-base hits.  Lot of good it did them.

Anything I’ve ever read about the Verlaines seems to mention that main Verlaine brain,  Graeme Downes, is the head of the Music Department at the University of Otago in Dunedin, and once wrote a doctoral thesis entitled “An axial system of tonality applied to progressive tonality in the works of Gustav Mahler and nineteenth-century antecedents.”  So I guess I will too, since it is hard to ignore the fact that his academic interests inform his take on punk rock.

And I tell you this because this collision of worlds leads to one minute of music that would justify purchase of the album.

I was involved in a social media discussion with some friends this week about what they described as “aural orgasms,” those intensely pleasurable moments of songs that become as important as the song as a whole.  I’m thinking of things like the dead stop at the end of “Raised Eyebrows” by the Feelies, or the metallic whang of the intro to Wire’s “I Am the Fly.”  There’s one here.  During the instrumental final minute of the opening track, “Mission of Love,” the band careen madly through a series of tension-building chords crafted with a romantic composer’s attention to harmonic nuance.  It sounds like the conclusion of a symphonic movement, except it’s bashed out on punk rock guitars Allegrissimo.  It’s thrilling.

As for the rest of the record…well, it’s excellent.  Consistently melodic, literate, and passionate, with Downes working at a very high level of songcraft that feels unique and classic at the same time.  There seems to have been a decision made, perhaps based on the grunge-mania that was the style in them days, to minimize Downes’ dabblings in string and woodwind arrangements (which turn up only on the closing track, “Dirge”) in favor of loud, furiously strummed guitars.  Initially the lack of orchestral textures makes the album seem perhaps a bit colorless, but mutliple listens reveal that the ferocity of tempos and gritty guitar tones pair well with the frequently despairing lyrics. The arrangements avoid solos almost entirely, and focus instead on the construction of interesting and remarkably evocative rhythm guitar chords, an unfashionable and highly effective move.  When they pound furiously, it’s tremendously fresh and exciting.  When they dial it back a bit, you get tracks like “This Valentine,” and the disc’s loveliest moment, “Lucky In My Dreams.”

This is a band that has set a very high standard over the years, creating wonderful mash-ups of art-rock, punk and sophisticated pop.  This is their best album.  All tracks on iPod.