Week 3: Archers. Of. Loaf.

This week, the Six Old Guys resemble a Top Chef contestant – one artist, 3 ways.  From time to time, we expect these kinds of deep dives into a band from the older days that is back with a new record and on tour.  And to start it off, we focus on a band that has not made new music in more than 20 years, though its members have been active: Chapel Hill’s Archers of Loaf. Overall, these 3 reflections show a band with a mixed discography that perhaps never quite got its due at the time and is at its best when just letting loose and giving you a kick in the teeth.

New Album: Reason in Decline by Archers of Loaf. There is perhaps no greater tip-off that this album is made by guys in their 50s than the fact that the main banger, “Misinformation Age,” is a screed against the 24-hour news cycle, ranting about slick guys with too much hairspray coming through on TV. Let’s face it: if you’re 18, you’re not picking up a guitar to scream about CNN or Fox News and the deceptiveness of their hosts. That is what punk bands did in the 1980s and 1990s. But even with the “get off my lawn” vibe and an eerily Billy Joel-esque tone and vibe to Eric Bachmann’s vocals -- the song rips. That remains the best thing about this band – they can just rip: slashing guitars, a booming rhythm section, and acerbic lyrics delivered with biting vocals.

On their debut, the 90s classic Icky Mettle, disdain oozed, with verses such as “’Cause I don’t want to see your face anymore/’Cause I don’t want you on my case in the morning/I’m just being honest/It’s the least I could do/To say I’ll never be honest with you/’Cause you don’t deserve it anyway.” So too here. On “Human,” Bachmann reckons with an ex, “cocaine all caked around your nostrils,” (there go the old guy references again), bristling that only death can set someone like them free. There’s talk of insurrection, of rebel cells, of “drowning in the hard times.” Yet somehow the album never feels dark. The drums still sound crisp, the bass lifts the songs throughout, and the melodies keep your feet tapping. A couple of slower songs are, in true cliché form for an old band that could never write a ballad, expected misses. But otherwise, although reason may well be, this is not a band in decline.    

Pitchfork rightly began its review (a 7.7) with the age-old question: why does an old band come off the sidelines and make a new record after more than two decades? For once, Pitchfork seemed to get it right: Archers, sort of, has still something to say but can still pull off a great song. That alone seems worth all of our time. (Brad)

Album from an upcoming/recent show: Archers of Loaf vs Greatest of All Time. I lost the thread on Archers of Loaf, but their EP Vs. the Greatest of All Time brought me back into the fold. 

That I lost the thread was surprising.  Archers is one of a handful of bands that I can name exactly where I was when I heard them for the first time—opening for Superchunk (I think) at Lounge Ax (RIP) in Chicago in early 1995.  I had gone with my roommates, and we were immediately captivated.  The band had the perfect mix of catchy, accessible melodies (the sweet) plus discordant noise (the salty), with a streak of pathos.  They varied the formula, dialing up the sweet for some songs (“Plumb Line”), others going heavier on the noise (“Learo, You’re a Hole”), and then finding the perfect balance with “Hate Paste.”  From that day on, Icky Mettle was on constant rotation in our two-story walkup.

And then I’m not sure how I lost the thread.  Next it was 1999, and I was starting law school, meeting new people, and trying gauge who I might be able to talk music with.  I invited a few people out to Lounge Ax, where I must have waxed nostalgic about hearing for the first time Eric Bachmann bellow “Web in Front” just feet away. 

A few weeks later, a woman from this group mentioned she bought Vs. the Greatest of All Time, based on my recommendation of Archers.  I had to admit that I actually hadn’t listened to the EP, so I started listening to it too.

The album starts heavy with the noise.  After a quiet introduction that runs for some 90 seconds with solemn distorted tones and light guitar strumming, “Audiowhore” suddenly kicks in with a wall of noise and Eric at full yell.  It’s a full-on onslaught; no sweetness.  A real kick in the teeth.  There’s a brief respite as the song breaks for a noodly interlude, but it’s quickly interrupted when the noise wall kicks in again.  I was a bit curious as to how my friend found this ferocious introduction.  She had mentioned she knew of Archers from the Mallrats Soundtrack, but that didn’t give me much of an indication of her tastes. 

After a quiet introduction that runs for some 90 seconds with solemn distorted tones and light guitar strumming, “Audiowhore” suddenly kicks in with a wall of noise and Eric at full yell.  It’s a full-on onslaught; no sweetness.  A real kick in the teeth.

Charles

The EP then segues into the standout, “The Lowest Point is Free,” keeping the intensity, but adding a more melodic chorus. “Freezing Point” slows the band down with nearly no noise but with the pathos turned up. “Revenge” again indulges a long, quiet introduction and builds to a fury.  The EP ends with the contemplative “All Hail the Black Market,” giving the listener a chance to gather themselves after the intensity of the first four songs. 

Released soon after Icky Mettle, the EP shares the textures and interweaving guitar lines of Icky Mettle but adds a new layer of anger and power.  This was the era of companion EPs that amp up the fury that didn’t fit on a full LP—such as Beaster by Sugar and Broken by Nine Inch Nails. I was hooked again and learned, somehow, Archers had released three full albums while I wasn’t paying attention.  It’d be a better story if I could say, one way or the other, whether my friend was enthralled or alienated.  I don’t have an answer and we’ve since lost touch.  But this is really the important thing—I’ve never since allowed my attention to stray from my beloved Archers of Loaf.  I’m so sorry I neglected you. (Charles)

Album being rediscovered (at least 10 years old): All the Nations Airports by Archers of Loaf.  In 1996, I was playing catch-up on this band from Chapel Hill. I remember buying “The Speed of Cattle” in a New York record store, and then I went back and dove into their first two albums, “Icky Mettle” and “Vee Vee,” both of which contain some of the best examples of early ‘90s indie rock. So when “All the Nations Airports” was released, I was excited for new music from a band I was just discovering. But as I recall, the overall response from fans and critics was… meh. Not awful (that would come later, with “White Trash Heroes”) just disappointing. 

I, on the other hand, convinced myself that the Archers’ attempt to broaden their sound, incorporate more instrumentals, and add layers of droning and melancholy was a sign of a band growing. But listening to the album now, the band just sounds lost. To be fair, “All the Nations Airports” has three absolute bangers – “Scenic Pastures,” “Vocal Shrapnel” and “Bones of her Hands” would have fit perfectly on either of the first two Archers albums.  The rest of the album is inconsistent at best. The opening track, “Strangled by the Stereo Wire,” now sounds abrasive where it once sounded edgy and experimental. It doesn’t really grab the listener. The same goes for the title track, which immediately follows. (Contrast the album versions of these two songs with the demos that were released in 2012. The demos are stripped-down, energetic, and sound like a live performance.  Put simply, they’re better, and they give the listener an idea of what this album could have been.) 

Looking back, I’m fairly certain that when I first embraced “All the Nations Airports,” I focused on the three songs that stood out, ignored the filler, and wanted to believe in a maturing sound for a band I had only recently discovered.

Brian

“Assassination on X-Mas Eve” is clever, but it would work better if the band wasn’t aiming for a cross between Sonic Youth and My Bloody Valentine.  “Worst Defense” and “Chumming the Ocean” now sound like filler, while “Rental Sting” now sounds like a song from a whiny open-mic'er (“Rental sting, the customer is king/Waste your life, waste your life.”).  The instrumentals are fine but not overly memorable.  “Attack of the Killer Bees” would probably be fun live, and “Bumpo” would be a good song for a film noir soundtrack, but “Acromegaly” is a bit spacey and not in AoL’s wheelhouse.  The same goes for “Distance Comes in Droves” – when I listen to Archers of Loaf, I’m not looking for dream pop.  Album closer “Bombs Away” is a piano instrumental that doesn’t fit.

Looking back, I’m fairly certain that when I first embraced “All the Nations Airports” I focused on the three songs that stood out, ignored the filler, and wanted to believe in a maturing sound for a band I had only recently discovered.  Listening now, I can hear the flaws, and I wonder how these songs would have turned out if they stuck closer to the sound on their first two albums, or at least the demos for this one. (Brian)