In
my discussion of ‘I Think the Birds Are Good Ideas’ I suggested that the songs
on Sound of the Sand were likely to have been largely studio jams by the
musicians on the record – and then David Thomas singing over the top. In this
case, however, I note that the authorship of ‘Happy to See You’, one of the
poppiest songs on the album, is credited to Thomas alone.
I
have mentioned that, although the album is technically by David Thomas and the
Pedestrians, other ‘bands’ are credited with some of the tracks. This song is
recorded by The Trees: Thomas, Paul Hamann, Alan Greene, Scott Krauss, Pere
Ubu’s drummer before Anton Fier; Ralph Carney and Allen Ravenstein.
So
essentially the track features three Pere Ubu members – recording during the
period Pere Ubu was a going concern, with Krauss – and three other Cleveland
legends. In an earlier version of this post, I wrote ‘One can only speculate;
my assumption is that this is the oldest song on the album, and that it was
part of some other project, perhaps an early attempt at something else.’ The three-track download package made available through Hearpen (once Pere Ubu’s
record label, now its online shop) states this track was part of the first
sessions ‘by David Thomas and the Pedestrians’ at Suma, the Cleveland recording
studio, in January 1981.*
The other reason to assume that ‘Happy to See You’
was an early experiment in something else is its excellence as a piece of
songwriting. ‘Happy to See You’ is probably the best song on this album of often
great songs. This is not because it’s actually one of the most conventional
songs on the record; it also has a particular vim and spark which make it stand
out (it also has a feature which may have a name in the terminology of recorded
music; many times in the past it has come to mind for me, for no particular
reason, and in my mind it blends with another piece of music – which I’m not
even going to name, it’s so esoteric – the two seem to fit seamlessly, and this
is part of its appeal for me).
It’s a bouncy, summery tune for the lyrics of which
Thomas once again reworks his own cartoonish persona; he’s most like a joyful
animal than anything else. Just like on ‘Rhapsody in Pink’ he was a ‘big pink
ball’ spending ‘a day under the water’, here he is ‘so happy to see you, I fell
into the basement’. He is, essentially, almost weightless and other than human,
for the purposes of conveying his particular joy.
Until I started writing these analyses, I took Sound
of the Sand pretty much on its own terms – the album is exceptionally,
almost ridiculously, diverse but it always seemed to work perhaps because there
were some greater dynamics at play that served to unify rather than highlight
the contrasts. Now I’m taking the album track by track, I have to say that
feeling has crumbled somewhat. Whereas the second (far more cohesive) David
Thomas solo album was Variations on a Theme, this one could perhaps be
called Ten Attempts at a Solo Career. Some of the attempts (this one,
for instance: individual, sprightly, complex, good-humoured, clever) are just
wonderful; had Thomas pursued this direction further, the album would have been
a lot more accessible and broadly listenable. It’s hard to imagine that David
Thomas could ever have mainstream success, except perhaps with a one-off
novelty hit that exploited the idiosyncracies of his voice and perspective, to
the detriment of his integrity (and honour) as an artist. But The Trees were
clearly a softer, less self-indulgent proposition than many of the other
configurations featured here. Which is not to talk down self-indulgence – which
is much-underrated – just to suggest that there was a different template set at
one stage, and for some reason, not followed (the two other ‘Trees’ outtakes
released as part of the Hearpen package will be dealt with in a few weeks).
I am no audiophile, so I would not like to make too
much of this, but this album (and the Pere Ubu album which followed it, Song
of the Bailing Man), were unusual LPs in that they played at 45 RPM. I
would like to know when the decision to adopt this approach was made (and why;
it’s a break from convention that must surely have caused a lot of confusion
amongst consumers).** Of course, these records are now only available as CDs or
downloads, so the speed is no longer an issue. However, I do wonder how the
decision was made to master – and perhaps even mix – based on the requirements
of a 45 RPM 12” record. There are, presumably, a third as many grooves on the
record; this surely reduces the bass. This is a particularly trebly track;
considerations on this front are surely all now long-forgotten, but must have
had impact.
* This email received from Ralph Carney on 1
September 2014 - I contacted him to ask what he remembered of the recording -
kind of suggests I'm wrong about the date. He says: 'what
i remember is i recorded it on a trip back to Akron after moving to N.Y. i feel
like it was dec 1981 or so and David asked if i could come to Cleveland to
record on this song. i had an alto sax and a chinese souna (not sure if
that is how it's spelled) a chinese double reed oboe thing. i haven't heard
that record in at least 30 years! i seem to remember it was just an
overdub. If i remember anything else about it other than David being
David ha! i will write you more, cheers, and thanks for asking... ralph' NB on
the sleeve, Carney is credited with 'sax, musette'.
**
Both the Rip, Rig and Panic albums released on the Virgin label at roughly this
time were 'album-length' but comprised two 12" 45s.
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