Friendly Advice—Luna
#365Songs: March 25th
Back when Rolling Stone wrote well about music, a long long time ago, they referred to Luna as “the best band you’ve never heard of.” And there’s no question I’d never heard of them when that quote was written, in the early ’90s. I came upon Luna in the Napster era when I fell into the Galaxie 500 rabbit hole, and likely recognized Dean Wareham’s voice and over time made the connection. Luna formed when Galaxie 500 brokeup in 1991, after producing three vinyl-owning-worthy albums.
I can try to write the differences between the two bands, which can be felt as much as heard, but why recreate what’s already been so eloquently crafted a few years back in the Columbia Review:
“Galaxie 500 captured the youth’s anxiety, apathy and disaffectedness during the late ’80s and early ’90s, while Luna watched those youths age and delve into professional and personal relationships.”
There’s a symbiotic relationship to several bands of this era that I love deeply: Stanley Demeski’s rolling drums were my favorite part of The Feelies, and he powered early Luna albums. Wareham produced early Mercury Rev, whose song Holes off of Deserter’s Songs is an all-time favorite. There’s so much Yo La Tengo in this music, too.
What can’t be argued is Dean Wareham’s role in the birth of slowcore, shoegaze, and dream pop. These are the genres that have dominated so much of my music-listening life.
Sweet obscenity
Bring her back to me
Lost in her perfume
Think I’m gonna sue
Sweet obscenity
Didn’t I know it?
Didn’t I call her name?
But there’s a clear thread through everything Wareham touches. In a previous post, I wrote about the Velvet Underground’s inarguable influence on the best music produced since, and you hear this influence across Dean Wareham’s entire catalog. There’s such a dreaminess to Luna songs, particularly across the great 1994 album, Bewitched, and if you close your eyes you could easily mistake a few songs for the VU — Wareham seems to channel Lou Reed’s voice to perfection. Poetic, guitar-driven, atmospheric.
Stale cigarettes
Crumble in your fingers
Caught with a drink in my hand
Edging to the door
Sweet obscenity
Didn’t I know it?
Didn’t I call her name?
Tiger Lily girl
Standin’ cross-eyed in the corner
Tiger Lily girl
Standin toungue tied in the corner
Somethin’ in her eye
Tells that I should try
Somethin’ she might say
Tells right away
Somethin’ in her eye
Try that with the opening moments of Tiger Lily and you’ll feel yourself transported to a Lower East Side warehouse in the late ’60s, but soon the song shifts into that late ’80s Galaxie 500 vibe. Softer, dreamier, more romantic — Wareham softened in those years between the two bands, and started dating Naomi Yang, a bandmate from both groups.
But Luna also strays away from the VU in the most interesting ways. The opening track on Bewitched, California (All the Way), shares none of the angst. There’s a light bubblegum pop feel to it until the heavier guitar line takes over and reminds us we’re far from the ’50s. Friendly Advice is a fiery jam that could easily show up on a Yo La Tengo album.
Cover my face with roses
Cover me head to toe
I had to be drunk
Just to look at your face
That was all right by me
How long will this go
How long will this go
How long will this go on
I flopped back and forth on which song to write about, so instead I’ve written about several. I guess that’s my way of saying listen to the album.
How long will this go
How long will this go
How long will this go on
Cover my face with roses
Cover me head to toe
They’re throwin’ a party
And you’re not invited
That was alright by me
How long will this go
How long will this go
How long will this go on
I don’t feel about Luna the way I do Galaxie 500. I can listen to a few tracks, and then I’m off to something new. Whereas Galaxie 500 can fuel an entire evening. That doesn’t discount the beauty of this band. They just send me scattering deeper into the genres they helped create.
