Grandaddy – Below The Radar
Ultra, 2004
1. Beck “We Live Again”
2. Beulah “Burned By the Sun”
3. Earlimart “Color Bars”
4. Snow Patrol “Run”
5. Goldenboy “Wild Was the Night”
6. Giant Sand “Bottom Line Man”
7. Fruit Bats “The Little Acorn”
8. Home “Comin’ Up Empty Again”
9. Jackpot “If We Could Go Backwards”
10. The Handsome Family “I Fell”
11. Little Wings “Sand Canyon”
12. Pavement “Motion Suggests”
13. Blonde Redhead “For the Damaged”
14. Virgil Shaw “Twisted Layer”
15. Grandaddy “Nature Anthem”
Who hasn’t ever made a mix tape (or, in today’s lingo, “mix CD”) for yourself or someone else? It’s a labor of love for those who do it well; songs are chosen not just because they’re great, but because they go together in some sort of odd manner. Whether it be one giant emotion or message to convey or simply an aural mood for any occasion, there’s little in existence that circumvents the power of a truly good mix.
And we, as consumers, see compilation albums all the time. Whether they be a “greatest hits” by a beloved artist or just a chunk of what’s popular at the moment, they sell extremely well in today’s market. They’re not as personal or well-formatted, only existing to put the meat on the platter without side dish or garnish. They serve their purpose and fill us up while supplying nutrients, although only with limited pleasure.
Enter the latest disc from Grandaddy; or, rather, the latest disc bearing the Grandaddy name. What lies beneath is actually a selection of songs chosen by Grandaddy member Jason Lytle which serves to give the listener a selection of tunes that seem to say, “if you like Grandaddy, then you will like this.” But more importantly, these aren’t just songs chosen to appeal specific fans of the band; this is, for all intents and purposes, a mix tape of mood and balance.
Several of the artists contained within — Beck, Pavement, and Blonde Redhead — have been stalwarts of the indie community for years. But no, it’s not “Loser” that you’ll find here; instead are 14 songs that are relatively unknown regardless of the artist chosen. For most, it’s like hearing an entirely new album anyway, as bands like Little Wings and Fruit Bats don’t exactly grace a wide section of the populace.
Where Below The Radio succeeds in the highest order, however, is how well these songs fit together as a whole. There are no jarring changes in style, as the rich pop stylings of Beulah ease into a slightly darker but equally mellow “Color Bars” by Earlimart. There is a general (and extremely consistent) theme of laid-back indie pop peacefulness, with the worst crime being that everything blends together almost too well. Jackpot’s “If We Go Backwards” jangles only loud enough to separate it enough from the rest; Virgil Shaw’s lilting “Twisted Layer” never drifts so far into melancholy that it sticks out from the other, more cheery, tunes. Topping all of this is the lone Grandaddy original, “Nature Anthem,” a hyper-optimistic hippie love dance about all that is nature, complete with a children’s chorus.
One may stop to pose a very important question: why does this exist — why is an artist marketing an album of tunes primarily by others? Think about the brilliance of this maneuver for one moment. All of these tracks combine with a Grandaddy sound, under the Grandaddy name. The marketplace shows that the public buys up compilation albums with unmatched voracity. Add in that the indie crowd is always hungry to discover that one elusive perfect band that they had not yet found, and what we have is a stroke of brilliance. The icing on the cake is the craft with which this was put together. Who else thinks this hard about a clump of songs thrown onto a CD? You, the home listener — you do.
It’s hard to step away from the concept and critique the songs themselves. While the idea for the album is grand, it’s definitely meant for one audience only: those who dig Grandaddy and similar artists, period. It’s quite a niche. It’s fair to say that if a band you like is present on the disc, think long and hard about that one particular song chosen, because the whole rest of the album sounds somewhat like it. For as much of a mood as Below The Radar creates, it also leaves out pretty much anyone and everyone else. It’s one big sea of mellow introspection; take it or leave it.
