6OGs From the Heart: Matthew Sweet, Naima Bock, and 2nd Grade

As promised, the 6OGs are working to get back into a rhythm of posts.  And as we are shocked and saddened by the Matthew Sweet tragedy (and equally motivated to ask people to vote their conscience on November 5), inspired by a breathtaking show by Naima Bock, and excited by another record from the great emerging band 2nd Grade, we’re back at it one week after our last. 

Given the urgency of OG Brian’s writing on the Matthew Sweet situation below, we’re going to shake the format up a bit this week and start the post with the revisit section.

Also, just a quick but sincere note of thanks. We recently reached 100 subscribers, and we are extremely grateful to everyone who reads, comments, and hopefully enjoys and learns a bit about records they may have missed or forgotten. It’s a thrill to write every one of these posts, and it warms our hearts to know a few people out there are interested to read what we have to say. 

Album being rediscovered (at least 10 years old): Girlfriend by Matthew Sweet. I don’t remember when I first became aware of Matthew Sweet. I mean, I sort of remember, but I don’t exactly remember. I had already discovered R.E.M. after Life’s Rich Pageant (still my favorite of theirs) and learned a little about Athens, Georgia, and heard about this cool, artsy band called Pylon that everyone talked up but were tough to actually listen to on record because the records were impossible to find.

But then I started to hear about this guy who was part of the Athens scene. He was vouched for by none other than Michael Stipe. His name was mentioned on MTV and WLIR even if, up to that point, they didn’t play his music all that often (if at all). He was considered the next great songwriter to continue the Athens tradition. He was also someone who, whenever discussed, was described by those in the know as a victim of record company meddling and over-production, at least on his first attempts to release his music into the world. This guy, or at least the chatter about him that reached a 14-year-old kid on Long Island, represented immense talent and unlimited possibility, and also the gatekeeping of major labels in the ‘80s that could either create a superstar or prevent a talented artist from breaking through.

This guy was Matthew Sweet, and in the next decade, he would get the acclaim he deserved by becoming synonymous with power pop.

As we entered the ‘90s, I sort of understood what power pop was. Thanks to The Replacements, I had already sought out Big Star - the template, the gold standard for power pop. By that point, it was clear to me that R.E.M. took their love of power pop and put a jangly, Southern, and often eclectic spin on it. Music writers would often refer to Cheap Trick as power pop and I would think… really? The “Dream Police” guys? In the same genre as my beloved Big Star? (Yes, I’m still looking past their cover of “In the Street.”)

Then in October of 1991, Matthew Sweet released Girlfriend, his masterpiece and one of the best albums of the ‘90s, a power pop classic. I like to think my initial reactions were something like: (1) this is awesome; (2) man, this is awesome; and (3) I fucking get it now, if Alex Chilton had been an early Gen X-er, this is the album he would have made. OK, there is zero chance I had that last thought back then. But that doesn’t make it wrong.

(Interestingly, weeks later Teenage Fanclub would release Bandwagonesque, another power pop classic that, along with Girlfriend, would go on to influence countless bands over the next several decades. While the early ‘90s were far from a utopia in music or anything else - although it may seem like it compared with the social media hellscape of today - I don’t recall anyone digging in their heels in a Matthew Sweet/Teenage Fanclub rivalry. We’d get enough of that later in the decade from the Oasis and Blur die-hards, with the Pulp fans looking bemused.)

Girlfriend is an album that literally needs no further critical analysis. If you’ve heard the album, you know it’s perfect. If you haven’t, go listen to it (although if you’re reading this Substack, chances are you’ve heard it).

So why am I choosing to write about it when I’m openly acknowledging I have nothing new to add? Because on October 12 - almost 33 years after the release of Girlfriend - Matthew Sweet suffered a stroke while on tour at age 60. And because Sweet has no health insurance and, now, no touring income (the stroke has been described in the media as “debilitating”) his representatives set up a GoFundMe to pay for what is expected to be significant medical expenses.

Look, I could go through a song-by-song analysis of Girlfriend, but as I said, there’s no need. The title track, “I’ve Been Waiting,” “Evangeline,” “Divine Intervention,” “I Wanted to Tell You,” “Winona,” and more - they’re all great. I could talk in-depth about the breakup that led Sweet to write Girlfriend, the personnel on the album (including Television’s Richard Lloyd and Robert Quine), and even the Tuesday Weld photo on the album cover (see below), I could even briefly mention that, later on, Sweet was a member of Ming Tea, the fake ‘60s-style band that provided musical interludes and several songs for the Austin Powers movies and also included Susanna Hoffs of The Bangles and Mike Myers in character as the international man of mystery.

Instead of going into all that, I’ll just say this: Sweet’s GoFundMe is here. Donate what you can. I did.

I’m going to say one other thing. It is unconscionable that anyone in America should be forced to fundraise to pay for medical care, whether they’ve had a hit record or not (and most of us have not). So, vote. I won’t say who to vote for, but look at the candidates running for national, state, and local offices, and ask yourself this question - who is best equipped to keep our economy, health care system, and social safety net from crumbling into ruin (or even, heaven forbid, improve all those things and more)? Then, go fucking vote for that person.

After all, as Old Guys, we’re not that far off from being Really Old Guys. And there’s only so many GoFundMe dollars to go around. And, go buy a Matthew Sweet record. We all know Girlfriend rules. But check out the underrated follow-up Altered Beast or 1995’s 100% Fun, which contained the catchy single “Sick of Myself.” (Brian)

Album from an upcoming/recent show: Below a Massive Dark Land by Naima Bock (Bonus: Whodunnit by Adeline Hotel). There was nothing, necessarily, that would connect a small, living room-esque show of two acoustic guitar players (with a remarkable acoustic guitar player and accompanying singer opening) to the movie Almost Famous, where an aspiring teenage writer (called William Miller but based on writer/director Cameron Crowe) gets a gig following the tour of a wannabe-big (fictional) 70s rock band called Stillwater. Throughout the whole movie, the young Miller is desperate to interview Russell Hammond, the band’s elusive lead guitarist and dominant figure, played by Billy Crudup. The interview never happens during the tour, but through some machinations of Kate Hudson’s groupie-extraordinaire character Penny Lane, Russell ends up at William’s house in the closing scene. And when William starts the interview with the question “what do you love about music,” you imagine another elusive and evasive moment.

But, instead, Russell gets up, turns the chair around to lean over its back, looks Miller dead in the eyes with an honest and ear-to-ear smile, grabs hold of the handheld recording mic, and says, “to begin with, everything.” It’s the one moment in the whole movie where you actually feel Russell being fully present with his whole self. And it’s not when he’s on stage or living the rock star life, it’s when he’s back to the roots of the kind of environment where it began for him. It’s a magical moment (in a not-always-magical movie) reminding you that rock music, when it's at its best, whether big 70s arena rock, punk, or quiet acoustic, derives from and ultimately lands back in the heart. 

Naima Bock helpfully reminded me of that while sitting down and playing acoustic guitar in front of 40-50 people. Bock and her partner brought their whole selves to every song played at Washington DC’s unique arts house/space, Rhizome DC. Her Bandcamp page notes, “With a band of ten, three, or even just solo, when Naima plays there’s a rare bond between the musicians on stage and the audience.” And that bond can only form when both the artist and audience are fully present, which I think everyone was at Rhizome.

To be honest, when Naima Bock’s track “Kaley” popped up as one of Bandcamp’s songs of the day, I only moved to click because the blurb noted she was on Sub Pop Records. I had not heard her name before, and when I realized she had played bass in the indie band Goat Girl, I thought, “Okay, I’ve heard of them.” And then “or, wait, is it horsegirl I am thinking of?” I almost clicked on another track, but then let it play anyway.

Within 10 seconds of that click, I realized this is not your typical Old Guy’s Sub Pop release. A mysterious and almost wavering voice emerged from a drum fill and blues-y mix of horns, settled into an acoustic track, and then boomed back into the full sound of the band in the chorus. The song is not necessarily earth-shattering lyrically, as the singer pines for the song’s namesake, noting “For you, I have no plan.”

But it’s as if we as listeners have no plan, either, for where Naima Bock takes us. After about 2 minutes of the back and forth, the song comes almost to a halt, as Bock subtly strums her guitar and almost whisper-croons (not sure that’s a thing, but she marries the two vocal styles in a way that stops you in your tracks)  “Kaley, Oh.” And as you feel yourself sink into the speaker waiting for where she’ll take you next, what depths of emotion you’ll be faced with, she turns back to the full band with the line “Kaley, my stars.” And you think, “my stars, indeed.” And also that Kaley is both very lucky and must have a level of inner fortitude I do not possess if able to withstand this type of longing. (If I have any quibble with the show, it’s that she didn’t play this standout track but perhaps couldn’t translate it to the acoustic format.)

Sufficiently hooked, I turned back to the record’s opener, “Gentle,” which begins with Bock’s voice and a barely audible strum singing, “he came into my life/when I, I, I, I was young.” The vocal tone is fragile and almost wavering, yet somehow deep and assured. The tone is instantly enticing and mysterious, causing your mind to race through “where have I heard that voice?” questions. My list has covered Linda Thompson, Nick Drake, Cate Le Bon, Beth Gibbons, and Feist. I am sure there are many more (I will note I am not a Joni Mitchell fan, but I will acknowledge others continue to bring her up as a reference as well, and I’ll trust them).

From those wispy and delicate opening moments, horns come in softly and give the track a bit more tempo and texture. Then a melody that feels reminiscent of Neutral Milk Hotel’s “King of Carrot Flowers, Pts 2 and 3” (the part right before it explodes) settles in underneath, the track builds, and then quiets again. Bock never explodes sonically, but somehow, you still feel like she has emotionally throughout the song, wrestling with whether and how to grow up, how to deal with the impact of this unnamed man, and as she looks back as an older woman, taking ownership of being “gentle, fragile.”

The third track, “Feed My Release,” came early in the show and set the tone for the night. On the album, the song starts with a catchy acoustic riff, brings in multi-tracked vocals, and then again the horns provide a depth that is initially enticing and then almost haunting at the same time. The vocals match that same feeling, especially when she asks the subject to “hand my mistakes/right back into my face and trust/that I, I, I will not make/them again, but I can’t tell you that.” The saxophone underneath almost deceives you into feeling calm and comfortable, but the lyrics and Bock’s voice are anything but in what feels like the most fully realized song on the record.

“My Sweet Body” introduces lovely string arrangements; “Lines” features Naima spending more time in higher vocal registers offset by a welcome drum line. “Takes One” begins even more quietly than most of the album’s tracks but then builds into one of the fullest sounds, including gorgeous layered vocal harmonies that becomes a sort of chorus and unusually effective hand clapping that then turns into a sort of applause as Naima repeats “someday you’ll find another one.”  “Age” has more of an acoustic rock song feel with a catchy riff and more prominent bass line that matches the drums to perfection. “Moving” and “Star” close the album with two spare tracks, and I sort of wish “Takes One” came at the end to close things out, but that’s another very minor quibble.   

The show stayed in the acoustic lane, of course, and Naima Bock didn’t really say too much as she worked through a number of these songs, a couple from her debut “Giant Palm” and even a new song. But she held everyone in the thrall of her voice and playing. The octaves and tones that she navigates leave you on the edge of your seat, leaning in for what’s next. And the arrangement of some of the fuller arrangements on the album worked to perfection.

(Quick shout-out to opener Adeline Hotel, the duo of Dan Knishkowy and Jackie West, who achieved exactly what they were intended to do: draw everyone in and set the stage. Knishkowy is a stunningly intricate and complex guitar player, without feeling distant, and the delicate way his vocals and West’s worked together also had me on the edge of my seat. I am not usually drawn into this kind of music at all anymore, but I will ensure I see Adeline Hotel at any opportunity and recommend the record, just as Ian Cohen from Indiecast did).     

In 2024, a year dominated by so many great jangle-pop, post-punk, actual punk, and hip-hop releases, did I imagine that an essentially indie folk artist with mysterious vocals would rocket to the top of my favorite album and show lists? Not at all.

So, what do I love about music? Take it away, Russell. (Brad)

New Album: Scheduled Explosions by 2nd Grade.  2nd Grade’s 2022 album, Easy Listening, was one of my favorites from that year. Check out standout tracks like “Cover of Rolling Stone,” “Me & My Blue Angels,” and “Beat of the Drum” for examples of what made Easy Listening one of my year-end highlights. With their catchy hooks and quick bursts of energy, the Philly power pop band immediately became a personal favorite, and I was eager to see where they would go next. Would they maintain the same basic formula? Would they add new elements to their sound? Or, would they follow the path of some other bands from the past decade and veer into an almost completely new sound for the sake of experimentation, embracing either synth-pop or industrial? (Thankfully, the answer to that last question is a very clear “no.”)

2nd Grade’s latest release, Scheduled Explosions, finds the band - led by prolific Philadelphia singer-songwriter Peter Gill - starting with the power pop sound that they excelled at on Easy Listening, but mixing in a low-fi vibe throughout the album reminiscent of early ‘90s Guided By Voices, a combination that has me acting out the Simpsons’ “shut up and take my money!” meme. As if 2nd Grade needed more proof of their enrollment in the Robert Pollard Finishing School, Scheduled Explosions contains 23 songs clocking in at a brisk 38 minutes. If this album had an elevator pitch, it would be “Radio City meets ‘Alien Lanes’.”

The first three songs - “Live From Missile Command,” “Triple Bypass in B-Flat,” and “Uncontrollably Cool” - kick off Scheduled Explosions with some of the same catchy guitar hooks that permeated 2nd Grade’s previous releases, but some of the lyrics and sound effects contain hints of darkness that were not readily apparent in the band’s past work. Talk of being “strung out in the field” on “Live From Missile Command” followed by disorienting “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart”-style guitar and the sound of helicopters.

References to a school bomb threat and shock treatment in “Uncontrollably Cool.” This theme continues later on “Evil Things,” a power pop number with lyrics that reflect dour times and ends with a guitar freak-out. Not what you would expect from 2nd Grade, but the incongruity between the lyrical images and the riffs and handclaps works. That said, at their essence, the songs at the top of the album are all power pop, perhaps best represented by “Triple Bypass in B-Flat.”

The tone shifts slightly with “Out of the Hive,” a crisp 1:45 of low-fi fuzz-rock, complete with crunchy guitars and pounding drums. The similarly fuzzed-out “Joan on Ice” is even more stripped down, featuring Gill’s voice, one guitar, and a sparse bass line. “Like Otis Redding” starts as straight power pop before shifting into outright chaos (in a good way) for most of its 65-second runtime, right before sliding back to power pop at the very end. “68 Comeback” is possibly the most lo-fi (lowest-fi?) track on the album, sounding like it was recorded in one take on a 1970s tape recorder.

Again, this is a good thing.

2nd Grade make some bold choices on Scheduled Explosions, all of which pay off. The music of “Jingle Jangle Nuclear Meltdown” is 33 seconds of sunshine and lollipops with Gill repeating the title like a youth group leader at a sing-a-long, making it the most cheerful disaster song since “Party at Ground Zero.” “Like a Wild Thing” repurposes the chords from The Troggs’ garage rock classic, but it sounds fresh instead of derivative. Gill even gets a little meta in the lyrics of “All About You” (“History is written by winners / The losers write power pop / And it’s all about you”).

Influences beyond Guided By Voices are present on Scheduled Explosions. “Made Up My Own Mind” is the most polished song on the album and sounds the most indebted to Teenage Fanclub. The album’s closer, “I Wanna Be On Your Mind” (sung by guitarist Catherine Dwyer), wears its Big Star influence on its sleeve. With November approaching, year-end list season is almost upon us. (For professional music writers, something I do not claim to be, year-end best-of lists are like holiday-themed commercials and store displays - they arrive earlier and earlier, whether you want them to or not.) For that reason, I was not expecting to be excited about a new release this late in the year. Yet, a month ago, I was eagerly anticipating 2nd Grade’s Scheduled Explosions. And here I am now, wondering how I will slot it in among my favorites of 2024, just as I did with Easy Listening in 2022.

Now, I have an answer to my earlier questions - on Scheduled Explosions, 2nd Grade stayed true to their original sound while altering the vibe and improving on an already successful formula. I’m happy they took a risk, and I’m even happier that doing so produced such a great piece of work. (Brian)