Beachwood Sparks have always been on their own trajectory, while also considering the past and future surrounding the elusive eternal now. They were quite the lightning strike in the late ‘90s. The Clarks Wallabees-wearing band were sure exciting to read about in zines like Vendetta during the late ‘90s as they were doing something radically different, but attuned to the times. Some of its members were also said to be DJs (and maybe college students) who played “Lemonade Rock” during the mid-mornings on Loyola Marymount’s KXLU. As with so many other past forward musical movements, Greg Shaw was ahead of the curve and was able to sign them to his Bomp label in 1998.
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| BAM Magazine-1999 |
Their self-titled debut album delivered the (Southern Californian) goods, even if it and its Sub Pop imprimatur befuddled many reviewers outside of the Mountain West & the Pacific Coast. The band slighty drifted from their regional rustic canyon good vibrations with the more dense and experimental Once We Were Trees. They completely lost me by the late time of Make the Cowboy Robots Cry. Perhaps they wandered off the trail or reached an impasse on where to take the sound? Although they seemed like the perfect band to be signed next by Warner Records, heading into the direction of the Flaming Lips didn’t do it for me.
At this point, the members splintered off into different projects with varying degrees of success. Farmer Dave and Jimi Hey went on to form the band All Night Radio and released the spectacularly ambitious album Spirit Stereo Frequency. I was fortunate to be able to see them live at Solar Culture on a starlit November night in Tucson. Additionaly, the Tyde always seemed like the natural companion band of Beachwood Sparks until the besotted Darren 4. However, the Tyde has risen again to release Season 5 this year, which could be their best album. Nonetheless, it’s the one that stands out the most for me with its successful attempt at evoking Florida's all-encompassing tropical (healing) vibes and Panama Jack-stylings.
Mountain, Ocean Sun They cover some varied terrain on Across the River of Stars with each song emerging somewhat stylistically distinct upon multiple plays. Their albums have generally been front-loaded and this one is no exception. They actually excel at the mid-tempo, but fall somewhat flat when they slow things down as their laconic can becomes a bit lethargic.
Defining Moment Occupying the fitting 4th song position in the lineup, “Gentle Samurai” is a should-be smash hit and perhaps the band’s most captivating song of their career. It’s an unifying statement stacked with harmonies, ‘60s bubblegum pop embellishments and ringing guitars. While still blazing their own trail, the song clearly cross paths with Teenage Fanclub (e.g. “Baby Lee,” "I Don't Want Control of You"), the Quarter After and the Resonars. “Gentle Samurai” is testament to their promise and delivery as a band and this is what I imagined them to sound like before hearing any of their official releases.
As with all their albums, there are some missteps like the incongruous shrill guitar tones of “Gem” and boring “Desert Center'' stretches found under “High Noon." Still, when they do connect they make the summer hits and rolling rock country like “Dophin Dance” for a now mostly vanished world. On a sidenote: When I lived in the Los Angeles area, I would see the Beachwood Drive exit sign along the 101 and imagine the band living in a house up the hill like the Grateful Dead with the Byrds (or Primal Scream) playing non-stop, while I was stuck in work-a-day traffic. Their parting shot, “Wild Swans” brings out a New Order/Peter Hook bass line. By the way, a New Order influence also surfaces on the Tyde’s “Use Them." Across the River of Stars may be a bit of a rough ride and it may be their Dr. Byrds & Mr. Hyde, but it’s who they are. However uneven, it’s encouraging to hear their further sonic explorations along the shifting edges that lead to the vast expanses of the West.
