Rogue Wave - London, UK - Spring 2006
By: Lauren Gallagher
London is freezing, officially. Black ice creeps up on unsuspecting pedestrians, making even the most graceful sophisticates lose their cool with the odd sidewalk slip. Little white clouds unfurl from every mouth, shoulders shudder, and gloved hands rub together in a desperate attempt to keep blood flowing.
Sound check at Camden's Barfly isn't much better. An unwelcome draft from above lowers the temperature. One saving grace affords itself: the tinkering of California-based Rogue Wave, which seep out of the amps like a gentle heat wave. The warmth increases upon meeting this four- member team of talent, led by one Zach Rogue, whose surname seems a misnomer when presented with his easy charm.
A quick jaunt to Chalk Farm's infamous late-night haunt Marathon Bar, finds the band happily seating themselves at the wooden tables, ready to devour the typically English fare of fish, chips, and the ubiquitous kebab. Relaxed conversation flows freely before any 'real' questions or answers come about. Eventually 'first album' versus 'second album' comparisons arise, as there is a distinct difference between sparse debut 'Out Of The Shadow' and the densely layered follow up 'Descended Like Vultures'.
Of the former, Rogue comments 'a lot of it I'd written before the band even started.' Rogue ditched his home of California for New York City, and composed much of '...Shadow' solo in the Big Apple. He returned to the San Francisco Bay Area, gathered a musical posse, and 'Descended...' is the end result, and a grand one at that. He continues in his soft, thoughtful tones, 'the new album is kind of a result of live experiments and having them evolve. We wanted the new record to be the result of all of us as a band."
Composition excites Rogue, who appreciates the boundless possibilities of the recording process, as opposed to live performance. He's also grateful for its comforts.
'Recording doesn't require sleeping on anyone's floor.'
'That's not truuuue!,' the rest of the band respond, miraculously in chorus, their cheeks stuffed with their greasy fare.
Rogue smirks, shrugs in agreement, and continues: 'It's the most exciting thing creatively. I'm the most turned on by it, it feels like the possibilities are endless. It's really unpredictable, and you don't know where it's going to take you. It's kinda scary in that regard, but it's the most cathartic...and totally stimulating. I just don't get sick of it,' he says with a dreamy smile, as if he's about to shape a new composition out of thin air.
'I like things that you can't capture,' says bassist Evan Farrell, jumping in to defend his love of the live performance. 'You can't put that in a can. You can play an amazing show, and the crowd is totally into it, they go bananas, and you never record it. How do you know that it was good?' he asks. 'They know,' he nods resolutely. 'That's sacred in some way.'
With their London gig sold out, they had better be excited to perform. Besides being on the respected and feted label Sub Pop, Rogue Wave have lately garnered increased support for their winsome tunes, audibly inspired by the likes of Neil Young and My Bloody Valentine, for a unique combination of folk and fuzz. The critical acclaim of their sophomore album has been buoyed by name checks on itunes recommendations, the OC, and contributions to a video game soundtrack.
The latter effort turned into an unusually inspired project. Asked if they would join the likes of The Flaming Lips, Death Cab For Cutie, The Raveonettes, and Cake, Rogue Wave accepted an offer to cover a song for the sound track for 'Stubbs The Zombie' video game. Although they were slightly dubious once they were informed it had to be a 50's song.
'I don't like music from that era particularly,' comments Rogue. Graham LeBron's (guitar / keyboards) take is less merciful: 'if I can't find any aluminum to chew on, I just like, go to a 50's station and turn it up.' Ouch. When it was suggested that they cover the ingenious Buddy Holly, they warmed up to the idea.
'Instead of doing like an obscure unknown Buddy Holly song, I thought it'd be cool to take one that's really universal and change it a little bit to make it our song,' Rogue adds. 'Everyone knows 'Everyday'...so it seemed like it was right for reinterpretation. Instead of a kind of puppy love song, make it more about longing. Desire. Have a little more melancholy in it, but still have the ass slapping sound in the background, which, it does.'
Ass slapping? Oh yes. Rogue Wave indeed make 'Everyday' their very own.
'We did both cheeks right?' Rogue turns to his drummer Pat Spurgeon.
'Yeah. Hardest percussion track I ever did,' replies Spurgeon, his gangly body lounging nearly horizontally across the wooden bench, his voluminous, squiggly afro twitching with pride. He shifts uncomfortably, as if recovering the memory. 'I was sore afterwards,' he pouts wearily. 'My butt got red!' The table erupts in uncontrollable snickering.
'It was one take, it wasn't like cut and paste, you know or looped, it was straight up played the whole way through,' Spurgeon says, defending his sore cheeks.
'He nailed it,' enthuses Rogue.
'I slapped it,' says Spurgeon.
You can't say Rogue Wave aren't creative, or indeed funny. Although it's an unusual choice of percussive instrumentation, this rhythm is one of the key factors of their cover.
'Aesthetically, it's the thing that links it to the original' says LeBron thoughtfully. Spurgeon imitates the rhythm by slapping his knees, like the sound of a galloping horse, which imitates the hand-clapping sound of the original.
The boys groan with the weight of their pre-gig meal, marvel again at the bizarre nature of Marathon Bar's kebab / gig spot with its gooey stalactite ceiling, Jack Daniel's candlesticks, and photographs of Marathon's resident Johnny Cash-a-like troubadour Daniel, before making their way to their evening's job.
Twinkling and sprightly, debut album favorite 'Sewn Up' opens the evening, brimming with its buoyant yearning. If you had background music to a game of hopscotch with your unrequited love, it might sound like this. The crowd bops happily along, with spirited curiosity. Rogue Wave's last London gig was by no means unsuccessful, but word has obviously spread about these California minstrels, the upstairs of the Barfly turning into a veritable sauna of an expectant crowd.
Rogue Wave are natural and comfortable on stage. Grateful for the enthusiasm before them, they don't need to demand anything from their fans, unlike so many bands who waste their energy boosting their own egos. The music is a welcome gift from them, and the crowd's appreciation goes a long way. It really is one big happy family tonight.
'Publish My Love', Rogue Wave's 2nd single from their latest album 'Descended Like Vulture's, makes a favourable translation to the live stage. Instantly pummeling the room with a barrage of sound, 'Publish...' comes on full force, waiting for no one. Drums, guitar, and bass swell, elegantly releasing into the lucid simplicity of an acoustic guitar, and Rogue's gentle plea: 'Wait there, just enough to see you smile.' 'Publish...' is driven by this crashing wave of sound smashing down and pulling back in sweet retreat.
Debut album tunes make their appearance, including the staccato acoustic pluck of the pensive 'Falcon Settles Me', and the shuffling swing of 'Kicking The Heart Out'. The most innovative song on 'Shadow...', 'Endless Shovel', pleases old fans. Its commanding, relentless pulse, never settles but pushes forward in beautiful chaos: 'I'll never know just what I'm doin/ I'll never know what is it/ I'll never know what is wrong with you/ You know it feels so bad.' The rhythmic guitar digs deep just like its namesake 'shovel,' its repetition breaking into a saucy twang, the drums exploding like fireworks.
The spectral nuances of 'Are You On My Side brings the lively crowd to a hushed awe. A haunting combination of skeletal plucking, a slow, tribal drum beat, ghoulish and owl-like hooting 'ooos' float over it all. It's fit for a graveyard at midnight. Rogue taps into his Neil Young mode, with an echo in his vocals and focused intensity. Eyebrows were raised at their not-often aired cover of Holly's 'Everyday', which came through in all its tender glory, but teeming with more wistfulness than the original. Unfortunately for us (but not for Spurgeon) they omitted the ass slaps.
'Love's Lost Guarantee', the last song in the set, seals the deal as far as cementing Rogue Wave's place among the best for the future of American music. The delicate, trembling intro rings as an eerie atmosphere of premonition. The bleak lyric 'Love comes like the Kennedy curse/ The victim role is well rehearsed' augments the chilling tone. Rogue later explains these lines as a 'parallel to the subject of [the Kennedy curse], how his/her love is doomed to the same fate. People like to blame themselves over and over again because feeling like a victim can keep you from focusing on what the real problem is.'
Two-thirds of the way in, the song crashes and burns in a spate of serrated squawks. It sounds like the victim of whom Rogue speaks realizes the true source of their pain, and spends the latter half of the song rising from the ashes.
The crowd raves fanatically for more of Rogue Wave's ingenious combination of shoegaze's play on noise/fuzz and the clarity of folk. The band beam with gratitude, wipe the sweat off their brows, and shuffle back on for an encore, humbly bemused by the tidal wave of warmth bestowed upon them. They are merely receiving what they've given, something unrepeatable, something precious, something 'sacred.'
Artists in this article: Rogue Wave