Superdrag - In The Valley of Dying Stars Arena Rock Recording Co.

By William Michael Smith

	Remember back in English class in high school when Mr. or Ms. Sensitive Touchyfeely was trying to teach you how to "understand" the great works of fiction? They always insisted that what the author was thinking or what was actually going on in the author's life at the time of writing whatever piece we were dissecting was irrelevant, that a work of art had to stand on its own. It didn't matter if Paul Theroux was actually cheating on his wife (we now know he was!) when he wrote two great novels in which the central character is cheating on his wife. The message was always the same from the academics - forget the context, just deal with the text. To forget the context surrounding "In the Valley of Dying Stars," the most recent release by Knoxville's Superdrag, is to miss a great part of the point. Not that you can't ignore what was going on with Knoxville's power pop/rock giants and still appreciate that "Dying Stars" is a truly fine record filled with hyper-intelligent, often existentialist and interpretatively ambiguous lyrics, walls of chainsaw rhythm with a smidgen of punk attitude, some mind-locking fuzz-tone guitar riffs, a two-fisted drummer who can wear down drum machines the way John Henry wore down steam hammers, and layers of harmonies that would make Paul McCartney or Freddy Mercury jealous. But if you ignore the context surrounding the album, it makes a whole lot less sense. The context makes it a complete document, rather than just a dozen interesting songs by a top-flight rock band. Two crucial events resonate throughout "In the Valley of Dying Stars." The first was the band's loss of their major label recording contract. Just after recording began, Superdrag split with recording conglomerate Elektra Records. It is no small thing for an artist or a band to go from major label status back to the crowded and semi-anonymous ranks of the independents, particularly in the rock genre. Lots of bands disintegrate, fall inward and implode totally out of existence. Or explode. Well, Superdrag exploded all right. A listener doesn't have to be a rocket scientist or an English Lit Ph.D. to realize that Superdrag didn't get mad, they got even. I want rock'n'roll but I don't want to deal with the hassle. I know what I know but I don't want to feel like an asshole It's direct, suspect, insects have launched an invasion Chosen, frozen, poison in my vaccination, yeah. I'm gonna figure out what's mine and keep it close to me (Student holds up hand. "Ms. Touchyfeely, did you know these guys had just lost their recording contract when they wrote 'Closer To Me?'" "It's not relevant, William, don't bring it up again, please.") Well, Mrs. Touchyfeely can run her class anyway she wants, but in my opinion it is useless to look at 'Closer To Me' without realizing that the split with Elektra undoubtedly served as a catalyst and inspiration to Superdrag's songwriter (not to mention guitarist, pianist, and organist) John Davis when he put this gem down on paper and walked into the studio and said, "Guys, I've got a new one here, let's try it." Listen to this track one time and tell me you don't think Davis, drummer Don Coffey, Jr. (who produced The Faults recent release), guitarist Brandon Fisher, and bassist Sam Powers were getting some payback, sticking their thumbs up to their noses and waggling their fingers and saying, "Look how good we are, you dithering idiot record execs." This is an infectious, perfectly constructed, instantly likeable, kick-out-the-jams anthem that just drips maximum coolness. If you like rock, there's no turning back after hearing 'Closer To Me.' (Although several Knoxvilleans had hyped Superdrag to me, I had never heard Superdrag until I unwrapped this CD, but before 'Closer To Me' was half finished I wanted to find somebody and say "Listen to this!") The second event that resonates through the record and gives some of the songs an incredible poignancy is the passing of Mr. Davis's grandfather. Without conveying any sense of the macabre, Davis has taken the natural despondency that anyone would feel and, turning inward as only a poet can do, has crafted some touching but certainly not sentimental or trivial lyrics. Nor is Davis afraid to place the despondent side of the equation in open view, as he does on 'Ambulance Driver,' when he delivers the heartbreakingly wistful lines: There was nothing i could do. I should've done it anyway. If the word of god is true, Why don't you roll it out, Carry it away? If this wonderfully gentle song doesn't grab you, check your pulse because it probably isn't there anymore. 'Unprepared' deals with another aspect of the loss of loved ones. While the impetus for the song must certainly have been the grandfather's passing, Mr. Davis has given this song a grand treatment and arrangement much reminiscent of some of Queen's most operatic works. Davis's piano work is exquisite, and his lyric and his vocal delivery match the philosophical content of the song perfectly. We carried you there, so unprepared, So unprepared to be grieving Don't tarry with care, take to the air, So unaware you'd be leaving. And now, I'm here to say, I shall never be right again. How can I pray he'll return what he's taken away? While some songs can with a degree of certainty be traced to the passing of Davis's grandfather, others songs, while having enough content to suggest that they may also be contextually related, are creatively ambiguous enough and are so broadly universal as to pass as unrelated. Not only does it rock hard and exhibit some very nimble bass playing, 'Gimme Reciprocity' is full of hooks and intelligent verbiage that goes straight to the deepest parts of the human reasoning system. Gimme reciprocity, it's all coming home Gimme animosity, with absence of bone From a low trajectory, acting alone. Couldn't he defect to me? He's waiting and lonely Wasn't easy to survive For the rest of us still left here alive Wasn't easy to explain One good reason to be glad we should remain Superdrag can throw down on a power-pop love ballad with the best bands in the genre, as they show on 'Baby's Waiting For Me,' one of those songs with such a sharp hook it gets inside your head and won't go away. She had all the aces I've been in here, I've been frustrated In seven years, I'm re-created And my mind won't be made up for me, Baby's waiting for me, baby's waiting for me there Covered all the traces of being here For time replaces most any fear To leave me faithless It doesn't take a Ph.D. to quickly grasp that in John Davis we are dealing with a songwriter/poet with a unique perspective, a man who is able to weave important life questions and latent philosophical quandaries into a few simple images to make statements we've neither heard nor pondered. While "In the Valley of Dying Stars" is filled with quality poetry, Davis does some of his best work in examining relationships in another power-pop rocker, 'Goin' Out.' Not only are the lyrics sublime, the guitar on this track is edgy enough to shave with. We were on our way to the savior To change our behavior The painting was peeling, It fell from the ceiling In pieces we ate and The lead made us all go insane While the lyrics on "Dying Stars" may strike some as depressing, on the contrary the album leaves an uplifting feeling. There is a joy and contentment in the playing and harmonizing that is obvious from the first note, even on the heaviest tracks like 'Some Kind of Tragedy' and the title track. 'Tragedy' sees Superdrag in metallic mode, with Coffey flailing away on his kit and the bass and guitars metallically slashing tightly through the sonic space. This is another song that demonstrates Davis's ability to coin hooks that absolutely hook. This inconsolable world of suffering Won't turn around, Having been in the ground with my reason These uncontrollable circumstances Won't make a sound, Having suddenly found you in season I can't concentrate on melody Waiting for some kinda tragedy I can't keep things straight, I imagine myself with you There's nothing anybody else can do There's nothing anybody else can do The title track finds Superdrag doing one of their most impressive and catchiest harmonies, the kind of singing that you'll want to listen to over and over again ­ and I have. But don't ask me what the lyrics of the title track mean. Certainly a case can be made that the lyrics at least partly refer to (or are a reaction to) the frustrating Elektra Records experience the band went through (Valley of Dying Stars, get it?). But there are parts of this lyric that are so suggestive yet ambiguous that I have to admit I'm baffled. I suppose I could have e-mailed John Davis and asked what it all means, but I'd bet that he's the kind of guy who would just grin and shrug and do that enigmatic Bob Dylan thing and ask, "Well, what do you think it means?" Or "Does every song have to mean something?" In this valley of dying stars You can make it feel crazy You can black out most of the view 'til you make it amazing Can you hear the sound Of hours blowing away? If you care about it, anyway How can I take you out of the way? Bullets break you a lobotomy Bullets break you a lobotomy Has anyone seen Ms. Touchyfeely? I'm going to need a little extra help with this one. * Always wanted to tell a major record label that they were ignorant Philistines? Order "In the Valley of Dying Stars" now at www.superdrag.com and register your disgust with Elektra by buying a great record they missed out on. Sorry, Elektra, your bad. These guys rock. Contact William Michael Smith at: wms-at-rockzilla.net

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