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The Softies: A Retrospective
She fell in love with me
I was polite to her
A soft sadness had her much more than her loneliness
- Wilco, "Venus Stop the Train"
I never thought that I would be
So close to you that I could see
The way your hair goes wavy
When you wake up
- The Softies, "You and Only You"
The best music is deceptive. One-hit wonders remain so because their music lacks depth and mystery -- every hook, every clever turn of phrase, is as naked and glaringly accessible as the sultry models gracing the covers of Playboy or Maxim. As the calendar year turns, such songs are replaced by similarly disposable flavors of the week, leaving more subtle, nuanced artists to weather the test of time. It is these albums, the Abbey Roads and OK Computers that refuse to surrender all of their treasures upon the first listen, that provide the most provocative, deeply satisfying experience.
This is no secret, of course, and raising a band to the pedestal of canonical status demands that its music withstands the erosion of generations -- the inevitable changes in styles, aesthetic standards, and at the individual level, the redundancy of hundreds of repetitions. What separates The Beach Boys from The Turtles, or Radiohead from Chumbawamba, are the themes implicit in both sonics and composition; popular music's sound and fury. While attempting to add a quiet, little-known indie pop duo to this lofty pantheon is perhaps beyond the range of any single article, what lies beneath the ostensibly childlike simplicity and diary-page lyrics of The Softies is a world well worth exploring.
If the "soft sadness" Wilco's Jeff Tweedy sang of was ever personified by a single group or artist, it was The Softies. For a few blissful albums and assorted 7-inch vinyl singles, the K Records duo was the saddest, sweetest band in the world. But they were also more than that. As teary-eyed and twee as they appear at first glance, the songs of Rose Melberg and Jen Sbragia are full of layers and undertones: self-deprecating humor, heart-wrenchingly pure innocence, and even a resolute sense of independence. For every song of naïve wonder or astonished heartbreak is one of cold regret or surprisingly emphatic scorn: "What I did while I was gone / is none of your concern," Melberg sings in "Charms Around Your Wrist," as if she's addressing one of her own betrayed narrators. It is this ability to sing from different, often opposing, perspectives that separates The Softies from the chorus of one-dimensional artists who have spent careers covering perhaps the oldest subject in the lyric book: love, and all of its innumerable permutations.
Between the intertwining of twin guitars and two voices lies albums' worth of pointed relationship analysis, chronicling everything from unrequited longing to the overwhelming joy of first love to the painful aftermath. The Softies describe love with both snide wit and aching passion, using a pristine, unadorned style that remains wholly their own -- one which, in the more than half-decade since what appears to have been their final release, still remains unsurpassed in its simple beauty.
*****
Rose Melberg and Jen Sbragia met as so many musicians, especially those of the indie pop variety, do: at each other's show. For a more exhaustive look at the twee/indie pop movement of the Pacific Northwest and beyond, you can refer to the encyclopedic Twee.net
David Greenwald :: 01/01/2006 |
I was polite to her
A soft sadness had her much more than her loneliness
- Wilco, "Venus Stop the Train"
I never thought that I would be
So close to you that I could see
The way your hair goes wavy
When you wake up
- The Softies, "You and Only You"
The best music is deceptive. One-hit wonders remain so because their music lacks depth and mystery -- every hook, every clever turn of phrase, is as naked and glaringly accessible as the sultry models gracing the covers of Playboy or Maxim. As the calendar year turns, such songs are replaced by similarly disposable flavors of the week, leaving more subtle, nuanced artists to weather the test of time. It is these albums, the Abbey Roads and OK Computers that refuse to surrender all of their treasures upon the first listen, that provide the most provocative, deeply satisfying experience.
This is no secret, of course, and raising a band to the pedestal of canonical status demands that its music withstands the erosion of generations -- the inevitable changes in styles, aesthetic standards, and at the individual level, the redundancy of hundreds of repetitions. What separates The Beach Boys from The Turtles, or Radiohead from Chumbawamba, are the themes implicit in both sonics and composition; popular music's sound and fury. While attempting to add a quiet, little-known indie pop duo to this lofty pantheon is perhaps beyond the range of any single article, what lies beneath the ostensibly childlike simplicity and diary-page lyrics of The Softies is a world well worth exploring.
If the "soft sadness" Wilco's Jeff Tweedy sang of was ever personified by a single group or artist, it was The Softies. For a few blissful albums and assorted 7-inch vinyl singles, the K Records duo was the saddest, sweetest band in the world. But they were also more than that. As teary-eyed and twee as they appear at first glance, the songs of Rose Melberg and Jen Sbragia are full of layers and undertones: self-deprecating humor, heart-wrenchingly pure innocence, and even a resolute sense of independence. For every song of naïve wonder or astonished heartbreak is one of cold regret or surprisingly emphatic scorn: "What I did while I was gone / is none of your concern," Melberg sings in "Charms Around Your Wrist," as if she's addressing one of her own betrayed narrators. It is this ability to sing from different, often opposing, perspectives that separates The Softies from the chorus of one-dimensional artists who have spent careers covering perhaps the oldest subject in the lyric book: love, and all of its innumerable permutations.
Between the intertwining of twin guitars and two voices lies albums' worth of pointed relationship analysis, chronicling everything from unrequited longing to the overwhelming joy of first love to the painful aftermath. The Softies describe love with both snide wit and aching passion, using a pristine, unadorned style that remains wholly their own -- one which, in the more than half-decade since what appears to have been their final release, still remains unsurpassed in its simple beauty.
*****
Rose Melberg and Jen Sbragia met as so many musicians, especially those of the indie pop variety, do: at each other's show. For a more exhaustive look at the twee/indie pop movement of the Pacific Northwest and beyond, you can refer to the encyclopedic Twee.net



