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 Varnaline's Volatility Intensifies With Their Second Release By Lisa Weeks THE PERSISTENT WIND and the intermittent swoosh of passing traffic create an appropriately plaintive backdrop as Varnaline's Anders Parker phones in from along the highway just outside Rapid City, South Dakota, en route to Devil's Tower. It's Parker's fourth trip on tour across the Badlands, and his favorite leg of the circuit--he's even been there twice on vacation. Given the temperament of Varnaline's music, nothing could be more fitting.
Varnaline is repeatedly referred to as a "side-project," or "offshoot" of Space Needle, (comprised of Parker, Jud Ehrbar and Jeff Gatland), which is something of a misnomer and a slight to the legitimacy of Varnaline as a band in its own right. Originally Parker's primarily solo effort, Varnaline debuted with the 1996 four-track release of Man of Sin. Subsequently joined by Jud Ehrbar (Space Needle, Reservoir), and brother John Parker, Varnaline expanded to a trio for its second, self-titled release. Recorded in two intensive sessions--during one of which they were holed up for 10 days, sleeping on the cutting room floor--Varnaline is a more polished, developed effort than Man of Sin, while remaining decidedly musically distinct from Space Needle's recent second release, The Moray Eels Eat the Space Needle. Commenting on the relationship between Varnaline and Space Needle, and the nature of and extent to which the two projects influence each other, Parker explains, "They're separate projects. I tend to see it that they're just two different sides of what I'm interested in. The approach is different, but ultimately it just comes from wanting to be musical." Certainly the addition of two new members has changed the surface, if not the essence, of Varnaline, which is plainly apparent in the growth between Man of Sin and Varnaline. The progression from solo to trio is best described as an evolution, one to which Parker seems to have adapted beautifully. "In the most obvious sense we recorded in a better studio. Jud, John and I tend not to go in with all of these preconceived notions. I wanted those guys to do what they wanted to do. We worked out most of the arrangements all together, and everybody had a hand in production...we do tend to question each other's intent with what we're doing when we play (out), but in general we trust each other enough to kind of let each other go." Despite the communal efforts in the studio and on the road, song-writing credit on Varnaline goes almost exclusively to Anders Parker, with "Really Can't Say" credited as the only collaborative effort--between the brothers Parker. Anders, who views his song writing as "connected" at least initially to a "folk-song, story-telling" tradition, recognizes the balance between the narrative and purely musical efforts. "I try to let the song (direct) itself--it's important to let the song tell you where it's going to go. When I write a song--because I know I'll be singing it for a while--I want there to be stuff to work on, so that there's some meat on the bone. So that on different nights different things have different meanings." The balance of Parker's motivation resides in the studio, in "making interesting-sounding records--I definitely want to have songs that are sonically interesting." It's just that approach and focus that makes Varnaline's sophomore effort so accessible, imbuing Varnaline with its many intriguing intricacies and range of influences regarding songcraft and musicianship. Defying labels like "despairing," "serious" and "dark," the record's most self-conscious moments are also its most subtly and intentionally humorous. In the struggle to pigeonhole Varnaline into a particular genre, many have failed to acknowledge the simple brilliance of the band's multi-faceted approach. Parker says, "Many people tried to latch on to certain ideas with the first record. Some people would paint it as an acoustic record, or a rock record with acoustic tracks, or a country record with whatever, or a noise record with folk leanings, seeing it only in one light. With both records, each song is a thing unto itself, so it depends on how you want to perceive it." As much as Varnaline's 10 tracks could be described as a series of vignettes, the emphasis on songwriting is the underpinning, the glue binding the varied influences into a cohesive whole. Each song identifies and edifies an aspect of Parker's, and Varnaline's, personal perspective. When asked if Varnaline could choose eight bands to join them on tour, artists with whom they felt a kinship, Parker mused, "That's a good question. Elvis Costello, Vic Chesnutt, Richard Thompson, Sleater-Kinney, Steve Earl, Aphex Twin, Lucinda Williams and Tom Waits." Not bad company, and a bill that clearly illustrates Varnaline's unique and eclectic inventory of inspiration.
Varnaline plays Friday, May 23, at the Airport Lounge,
20 E. Pennington St. Special guest Wise Folk Malcontent opens
the show around 9:30 p.m. Tickets are $4 at the door. Call 882-0400
for more information.
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Stripped-down arrangements, empty spaces contrasted with thick
sonic profusion, spare elegance composed of rugged elements, and
expansive perspectives punctuated with piquant curiosities meld
with a clarity that's almost visual into an honest, soulful experience.
