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Galaxie 500 formed in 1987 at Harvard College, when New Zealand-born Dean Wareham (vocals, guitars) and fellow undergrad Damon Krukowski (splendid drums) hooked up with Naomi Yang (their graphics advisor, then bassist). They named their band after a Ford car, and recorded their first single in early 1988 with Kramer at the production helm. 'Tugboat' demonstrates the band's distinctive sound right from the off. 'I don't wanna stay at your party/ I don't wanna talk to your friends,' wails Wareham, all fuggy petulance coated in layers of reverb; 'I don't wanna vote for your President/ I just wanna be your tugboat captain.' Hardly cutting edge stuff, but a graceful statement of intent nonetheless. The drums cascade as the guitar chimes a Shadowsy riff, while Yang's bass steadies this musical tugboat with its gentle murmur. In fact, if I had to choose an adjective to describe Galaxie 500's sound overall, 'gentle' would be the one I'd go for. I'm sure someone once described it (accurately) as 'shockingly gentle.' Try also 'wistful,' 'peaceful,' 'ethereal...' I'll try not to use any of them in this piece, but I can't promise...
1988's debut album 'Today' enforced the blueprint set down on 'Tugboat,' which also works poignantly as the closing track on the album. The typical Galaxie 500 song can best be defined as follows: high-pitched vocals, (usually Wareham's, sometimes Yang's), deeper backing vocals (Krukowski - often harmonic 60s style 'ums' and 'ahs'), three chords strummed delicately and slowly on electric guitar, drums doing much of the work (light as sea spray and almost jazzy, or pounding) and Naomi Yang never being afraid to play the high notes on her bass as melody rather than rhythm. The Hives it ain't - it sounded beautifully soporific and out of step even by most 1988 indie standards - but there usually comes that nice moment when Dean Wareham cranks up the guitar and splits the whole thing open with some distorted riffs. Most of the songs start as though no-one's told him it's not an acoustic guitar and he's actually got it plugged in, and then, as the song builds to a crescendo of sorts, as if he's suddenly realised it's cranked up to 11 and he's going for gold. There's also a distinct Velvets' feel; compare and contrast the lovely opener, 'Flowers,' with the VU's more melodic, poppy moments (Galaxie 500 later recorded 'White Light/White Heat' song 'Here She Comes Now' as a B-side). Perhaps the most striking song on 'Today' is one that breaks the Galaxie 500 mould, their cover of Jonathan Richman's 'Don't Let Our Youth Go To Waste.' The stomping bass drums and the frenzied, fuzzy guitars fuse together insistently with the plaintive vocals to make this an intensely emotional listen: 'I could show you memories to rival Berlin in the 30s...And I could bleed/In sympathy with you.' Brutal, deranged, and very moving stuff, and the first Galaxie 500 track I ever heard, thanks to the great Peel (again). The band were soon winning admirers in the US and Europe, earning ringing endorsements from the likes of Thurston Moore. Meanwhile, across the way, another guitar band from Boston were making bigger waves with their much louder sonic assaults; led by Black Francis, they would become a seminal influence on rawk music while the Galaxies would remain less well known, but that's another story...
1989's follow up album 'On Fire' cemented the style laid down by its predecessor (and crucially, in a lovely orange cover, too). 'Decomposing Trees' is one of the band's key songs, with its 'Stairway to Heaven' like chord change and typically surreal, acid-flashed lyric: 'My toes can talk/And they're smiling at me/ Come down, they say/Not afraid any more.' Musically, the song evinces the same world weariness as Joy Division's 'Decades,' and the Galaxies would later cover that band's 'Ceremony.' Even better, they manage to flesh out their sound on this album; Wareham puts his guitar effects pedals to good use, and 'Trees' features the 'Baker Street'-style fiery sax playing of Ralph Carney. They spoil us with the following track; Naomi Yang takes the lead vocal on 'Another Day', an impossibly sad and beautiful song. Imagine Blur's 'This Is A Low' played by the Jesus and Mary Chain with Yoko Ono on vocals, and you're halfway there. I don't know about you, but I have to like a record which has the lyric 'I bought all the drinks/And I paid for your friends/Jesus can't you see?/I'm goin' round the bend.' ('Tell Me'), while 'When Will You Come Home?' namechecks Kojak. I saw them play live in Newcastle on the tail end of this album, and it was one of the top 3 gigs I've ever been to. For a three-piece, they managed to produce a fuller sound than most, probably because they used reverb better than anyone else to create density. It was as hypnotic an experience witnessing them live as it is listening to them on record.
Sadly, the story ended after 1990's 'This Is Our Music', ironically their sunniest offering yet. 'Fourth of July' was NME single of the week, if I remember rightly, with its half-spoken, half-sung witty lyrics about not belonging and things not going according to plan. How many bands would dare to start a song with the line 'I wrote a poem on a dog biscuit/And your dog refused to look at it?' They obviously love their TV shows and movies: 'Spook' was originally entitled 'Spock', explaining the weird line about having 'another eyelid', while the gorgeous 'Summertime' appears to reference David Lynch's 'Wild At Heart' ('Going to the movies/I found a shelter from the sun/Caught a gruesome story/About a couple on the run.'). They take us full circle by closing the album with the mysterious 'King of Spain', (an earlier version of which was their debut B-side to 'Tugboat,') and then it's all over. Dean still plays with Luna, (who played a song on John McEnroe's US TV chat show just the other week, trivia fans), played guitar on Mercury Rev's 'Car Wash Hair,' and performed a rendition of 'Sweet Child of Mine' at the funeral of his friend Robert W. Bingham, author of 'Pure Slaughter Value.' Damon and Naomi still record as Damon and Naomi. Would it be too much to hope for a reunion? Personally, it's hard to listen to 'Today' and 'On Fire' without reminiscing back to my first term at uni, when their floating, spaced out sounds acted as balm for the soul in many an 'incense' moment. Just the other day, I bought a CD copy of 'On Fire,' and it's the first album I've ever owned on both vinyl and CD simultaneously. Fantastically barmy sleeve notes by Kramer, too. I was going to print them out in full, but I'd rather you got your own copy. I digress...
Although never frequently-name checked, Galaxie 500 have influenced some contemporary groups. British Sea Power covered 'Tugboat' for a Rough Trade compilation, and you can hear echoes of their somnolent splendor in Mogwai and Low. Many of my peers deride them for being cheap Velvet Underground copyists who can't play songs with more than 3 chords, but they've missed the point: Galaxie 500 did what every band should set out to do - play together to work out the sound that suited them best - and they made it sound effortless and natural. And whereas the Velvets favoured drone as a form of attack, Galaxie 500 preferred to lull you; the Velvets are altogether darker and scabbier, while Galaxie's sound is stately and full of spaces and light.
Not an important band in the history of music, then, nor an especially original one, but certainly a crucial band in the hearts of many listeners, including mine (did I mention the nice orange cover?). If you've never heard them, then firstly, where have you been? And secondly, 'The Portable Galaxie 500' might be a good place to start. Or 'On Fire.' In fact, the whole damn lot. As those daft sleeve notes say: 'Come ride the fiery breeze of Galaxie 500!'
1988's debut album 'Today' enforced the blueprint set down on 'Tugboat,' which also works poignantly as the closing track on the album. The typical Galaxie 500 song can best be defined as follows: high-pitched vocals, (usually Wareham's, sometimes Yang's), deeper backing vocals (Krukowski - often harmonic 60s style 'ums' and 'ahs'), three chords strummed delicately and slowly on electric guitar, drums doing much of the work (light as sea spray and almost jazzy, or pounding) and Naomi Yang never being afraid to play the high notes on her bass as melody rather than rhythm. The Hives it ain't - it sounded beautifully soporific and out of step even by most 1988 indie standards - but there usually comes that nice moment when Dean Wareham cranks up the guitar and splits the whole thing open with some distorted riffs. Most of the songs start as though no-one's told him it's not an acoustic guitar and he's actually got it plugged in, and then, as the song builds to a crescendo of sorts, as if he's suddenly realised it's cranked up to 11 and he's going for gold. There's also a distinct Velvets' feel; compare and contrast the lovely opener, 'Flowers,' with the VU's more melodic, poppy moments (Galaxie 500 later recorded 'White Light/White Heat' song 'Here She Comes Now' as a B-side). Perhaps the most striking song on 'Today' is one that breaks the Galaxie 500 mould, their cover of Jonathan Richman's 'Don't Let Our Youth Go To Waste.' The stomping bass drums and the frenzied, fuzzy guitars fuse together insistently with the plaintive vocals to make this an intensely emotional listen: 'I could show you memories to rival Berlin in the 30s...And I could bleed/In sympathy with you.' Brutal, deranged, and very moving stuff, and the first Galaxie 500 track I ever heard, thanks to the great Peel (again). The band were soon winning admirers in the US and Europe, earning ringing endorsements from the likes of Thurston Moore. Meanwhile, across the way, another guitar band from Boston were making bigger waves with their much louder sonic assaults; led by Black Francis, they would become a seminal influence on rawk music while the Galaxies would remain less well known, but that's another story...
1989's follow up album 'On Fire' cemented the style laid down by its predecessor (and crucially, in a lovely orange cover, too). 'Decomposing Trees' is one of the band's key songs, with its 'Stairway to Heaven' like chord change and typically surreal, acid-flashed lyric: 'My toes can talk/And they're smiling at me/ Come down, they say/Not afraid any more.' Musically, the song evinces the same world weariness as Joy Division's 'Decades,' and the Galaxies would later cover that band's 'Ceremony.' Even better, they manage to flesh out their sound on this album; Wareham puts his guitar effects pedals to good use, and 'Trees' features the 'Baker Street'-style fiery sax playing of Ralph Carney. They spoil us with the following track; Naomi Yang takes the lead vocal on 'Another Day', an impossibly sad and beautiful song. Imagine Blur's 'This Is A Low' played by the Jesus and Mary Chain with Yoko Ono on vocals, and you're halfway there. I don't know about you, but I have to like a record which has the lyric 'I bought all the drinks/And I paid for your friends/Jesus can't you see?/I'm goin' round the bend.' ('Tell Me'), while 'When Will You Come Home?' namechecks Kojak. I saw them play live in Newcastle on the tail end of this album, and it was one of the top 3 gigs I've ever been to. For a three-piece, they managed to produce a fuller sound than most, probably because they used reverb better than anyone else to create density. It was as hypnotic an experience witnessing them live as it is listening to them on record.
Sadly, the story ended after 1990's 'This Is Our Music', ironically their sunniest offering yet. 'Fourth of July' was NME single of the week, if I remember rightly, with its half-spoken, half-sung witty lyrics about not belonging and things not going according to plan. How many bands would dare to start a song with the line 'I wrote a poem on a dog biscuit/And your dog refused to look at it?' They obviously love their TV shows and movies: 'Spook' was originally entitled 'Spock', explaining the weird line about having 'another eyelid', while the gorgeous 'Summertime' appears to reference David Lynch's 'Wild At Heart' ('Going to the movies/I found a shelter from the sun/Caught a gruesome story/About a couple on the run.'). They take us full circle by closing the album with the mysterious 'King of Spain', (an earlier version of which was their debut B-side to 'Tugboat,') and then it's all over. Dean still plays with Luna, (who played a song on John McEnroe's US TV chat show just the other week, trivia fans), played guitar on Mercury Rev's 'Car Wash Hair,' and performed a rendition of 'Sweet Child of Mine' at the funeral of his friend Robert W. Bingham, author of 'Pure Slaughter Value.' Damon and Naomi still record as Damon and Naomi. Would it be too much to hope for a reunion? Personally, it's hard to listen to 'Today' and 'On Fire' without reminiscing back to my first term at uni, when their floating, spaced out sounds acted as balm for the soul in many an 'incense' moment. Just the other day, I bought a CD copy of 'On Fire,' and it's the first album I've ever owned on both vinyl and CD simultaneously. Fantastically barmy sleeve notes by Kramer, too. I was going to print them out in full, but I'd rather you got your own copy. I digress...
Although never frequently-name checked, Galaxie 500 have influenced some contemporary groups. British Sea Power covered 'Tugboat' for a Rough Trade compilation, and you can hear echoes of their somnolent splendor in Mogwai and Low. Many of my peers deride them for being cheap Velvet Underground copyists who can't play songs with more than 3 chords, but they've missed the point: Galaxie 500 did what every band should set out to do - play together to work out the sound that suited them best - and they made it sound effortless and natural. And whereas the Velvets favoured drone as a form of attack, Galaxie 500 preferred to lull you; the Velvets are altogether darker and scabbier, while Galaxie's sound is stately and full of spaces and light.
Not an important band in the history of music, then, nor an especially original one, but certainly a crucial band in the hearts of many listeners, including mine (did I mention the nice orange cover?). If you've never heard them, then firstly, where have you been? And secondly, 'The Portable Galaxie 500' might be a good place to start. Or 'On Fire.' In fact, the whole damn lot. As those daft sleeve notes say: 'Come ride the fiery breeze of Galaxie 500!'
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