Swell - Too Many Days Without Thinking

Swell's irritatingly-clever bony-girl-armed downer-drawn pop tows a line that wavers between being just far too smarmy and learned ("that's lerrnd Pepe, lerrnd"), and being just downright wonderful in its astute crisply-recorded and oft-laidback arrangements. The likeminded Loud Family, Lotion, and Smart Went Crazy types sit alongside Swell as bands to admire more than love; such who would laugh off Seely's hopelessly Velveted delay pedals, and Low's lack of intricate time-signatures (and drums for that matter) as just languid-loser romanticisms, bereft of musical nous, no? If I was wearing hornrims and a whitecoat whilst writing this, as opposed to say my pyjamas (that is just hypothetical of course..), I would proclaim Too Many Days Without Thinking as an album you should just go out and buy (is that arrogant or what?), and probably not convey the ambivalence its Too Many Days of Witty Thinking demeanour leaves.That's not to say Swell's newie is bereft of emotion, the post-script tracks Bridgette,You Love Me (the ballad, no less) and Sunshine Everyday offer the sweetness'n'light at the end of the shadowy piquant-pop malaise; the former tinged with what sounds like swimming pool screams; the latter featuring the rarity of emotionally-drawn drumming, devilling through the squeaking, crying mellotron. And while not exactly turning heartstrings, Fuck Even Flow has a title that is instantly endearing. And it's not like there's a lack of genuine pop hooks to leave you cold; the wistful cymbal-shimmied What I Always Wanted, and the "for 30 days in Tucson.." singalong of (I Know) The Trip most obviously; but there's an alienatingly witty quality that holds Too Many Days Without Thinking back from being a fully encompassing experience.Perhaps it's just too good for its own good.

Like a tangy seven-year-old raw milk cheddar, San Fran's Swell always seem to get better with time, and their fourth release is no exception. Though the trademarks are still there --David Freel's perpetually strumming guitar, borderline comatose singing and penchant for the word "fuck," not to mention Sean Kirkpatrick's always innovative drumming, which is such a thrill to listen to --they've wound up with some very different noises and surprisingly un-Swell-ish sounding songs. Maybe it's the additional hazy keyboard drones, or the fact they recorded outside their home studio for the first time. Either way, they've done very well, and "What I Always Wanted" deserves to be an "alterna" hit, whatever that is.

EH

Local rockers Alice's Tin Pony pick a Swell time for a CD release party

by Joey Guerra

Entertainment Editor

Ten seconds of a song can really give a listener the wrong impression of a band. Take Swell, whose latest album, Too Many Days Without Thinking, plays like your standard alternative flavor of the month if you skim through a few riffs of each track. With further listens, though, Swell quickly establishes itself as a breed apart from the grunge-infested airwaves on today's Walkmans.

The intro cut, "Throw the Wine," is a melodic interplay of guitars and vocals that defies the tired rules of the alterna-chic sound. Swell seems to relish in creating listenable melodies and swaying beats, creating a slight but definitely noticeable difference between themselves and groups like Better Than Ezra and Weezer.

Through a tiresome process of moving, recording, re-recording and searching for a mixer between jaunts to San Francisco, Los Angeles, Hollywood and New York, Swell created its latest album, a mix of moody melancholia and world weariness. On the way to a recording contract, the guys scored their first big break courtesy of actor/director Griffin Dunne (American Werewolf in London, Who's That Girl?), who used the guys' music in a short film he made for Showtime called Duke of Groove.

Besides getting to schmooze with Uma Thurman ("She's the party-temptress-sex-goddess"), Swell appeared in the film as well. One flick they did not appear in was Showgirls, the T&A fest that features one of the group's songs in the opening scene where Elizabeth Berkeley hitches a ride into Vegas. ("Shocking. Thought it was a good idea at the time.")

There is a lived-in feel to tracks like "What I Always Wanted," which nicely establishes a comfort zone for the vocal stylings of lead singer Sean. While comparisons to the likes of Pearl Jam may abound (especially on the Eddie Vedder-esque "Make Mine You"), Swell seems to dismiss all that with "F*** Even Flow," which says it all in the title, be it intentional or not.

Guitars, drums and bass all seem to hook into a melody on every track instead of rambling off into a pretentious mish mash of grunge-mania. The band seems to be purposely creating unified tracks, daring grunge boys to sing along to their cool beats. Swell's sound isn't startling, but it retains a slight edge that puts Too Many Days Without Thinking into a unique alterna-pop position that betrays many of the songs' cliched intros.

Swell takes the stage at 9 p.m. tonight at Rockefeller's, 3620 Washington. Alice's Tin Pony opens. Tickets are $14. Call 869-8427 for more information.

It's been a long three years since Swell's last album, 41, lazily floated out of San Francisco's early morning fog in a cluster of swaying acoustic guitar, modestly thumping percussion and hypnotic, drugged-out vocals. Sidestepping from American Recordings to Beggars Banquet, the trio hasn't modified much of its previous aesthetic, instead remaining suspended somewhere between tight, unassuming pop and a quid, hazy world of half-formed thoughts and off-kilter emotions. "Throw The Wire" opens the album with a lurch, its modest vocals and snaky, bobbing bass line entering the song's basic rhythm track through the back door, before a thin wall of sharp electric guitar and acoustic strumming is erected. "Fuck Even Flow" shifts comfortably between sparse, acoustic riffing and a whining electric slide, all the while softened and refocused by plush, melancholic vocal harmonies. "(I Know) The Trip" is both tense and strangely catching, trodding forward on a carefully structured pop chorus and some caustic electric textures. The album's closer, "Sunshine, Everyday," is obtuse and haunting still, projecting beautiful, angled shadows across the album's brighter spots with its clever vocal and instrumental moods.

-COLIN HELMS