Retro-Blog: 2012, about the band Point Line Plane

 [What follows is the text of a review I wrote, in a rather self-aggrandizing way, about the first, and eponymous, album by the band Point Line Plane, which still resides at amazon.com under a listing for used copies through third-party sellers. Since this is subject to disappearance at any moment, I hope to give it some further virtual persistence here, however longer "here" may exist.]

5.0 out of 5 stars Love's Labors Lost
Reviewed in the United States on May 9, 2012

This self-titled album by Point Line Plane is screamo synthpunk with blistering drums, and one of the more intense and unique phenomenon of the very brief but surprisingly authentic old-school punk revival that flared up in Portland OR, peaking around 2000-ish. Point Line Plane put on shows that felt genuinely dangerous, like anything could happen, and often did. This album, with instruments tracked live in a cavernous ancient ballroom, and studio vocals subjected to all manner of distorted re-amplification, faithfully conveys the manic energy of the live shows, while also providing creative ways to do violence to the sound which would not have been possible on stage. The songwriting channels teenage rage and terror from a dystopian science-fiction future that arrived while we weren't looking, with a little timeless metaphysical torment added for good measure. Much of it can be physically uncomfortable listening for some people, but that is very much the point.

Since I had been too much of a prog geek to "get" punk when it happened the first time around, it was a real pleasure to experience the real thing later in life. For the young and confused, the first time around for real punk was the late 1970's, in case you are suffering under the misconception that bands like Green Day and Blink 182 were authentic punk bands. They aren't even bands now so much as brands.

Contrary to the description, Howard Gillam doesn't play on this CD, as at the time of recording he was in another duo, the Momeraths, with Joshua Blanchard. This was also a time when droves of duos roamed the dark and smoky dives of Portland, and this is a duo release with Josh Blanchard and Nathan Carson. I should know; I co-produced it with the band and Merlin Carson. Both Carson brothers were previously in the genre-defying Bishop of Battle. Later, the two duos converged into a trio, keeping the Point Line Plane name, for their second and final full-length release, Smoke Signals. All three members have been involved in an array of musical projects since, perhaps most significantly Nathan's return to the Doom Metal band Witch Mountain.

Recording and mixing this was tons of fun because we were experimenting and creating a sound, instead of trying to re-create some preconceived notion of how it should sound. We allowed ourselves to surprise ourselves. Other tracks from these sessions were released on a split EP with The Planet The, which, sadly, you are very unlikely to find. I would love to see a re-release of this album, with the EP tracks included as a bonus. But this review is entitled Love's Labors Lost for a reason: this CD can be had right now for a penny, with shipping rounding it up to under five dollars. The studio which produced this is as obscure and defunct as this album, and this band.

I strongly recommend that you make the tiny investment of time and spare virtual change to buy this CD. I promise it will make the most extreme music you own now sound like gentle lullabies for baby.

Title Pending

Arriving at the keyboard late in a string of internal associations can be awkward and, to the reader at least, confusing.  This is only made worse when the author is coming down (up?) from being overly drunk on home-made absinthe.

Age has both stolen from me, and gifted to me, freedom from passion.

For the romantic mind, passion is the source of all that is most precious.  The rational mind counters with the popular phrase "crimes of passion".  Personal experience reminds me that passion is the source of my strongest among weakening memories, some of them precious, many of them, at best, embarrassing.

For nearly a full year, my passion for music has been given a new life by one band, named "boygenius", and the prior solo and collaborative works of each primary member, Julien Baker, Pheobe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus.   Although I do not presume to know the full back story of each member of this trio, or to what degree their songwriting is autobiographical or fictional storytelling, their songs have a ring of personal truth that touches me more than anything has in several decades.

My history with music had thus far been almost completely male and presumably heterosexual, particularly given my proclivities towards "Progressive Rock".  Really, only Kate Bush had thus far broken that ceiling.  Then last year, at age 60, I saw and heard boygenius play "Not Strong Enough" on the Jimmy Kimmel Live show, and was instantly moved and enthralled by a band of queer girls.  Although I don't feel physically or mentally strong enough to withstand the experience of in-person live shows, I have listened to or watched little else in the way of music for an entire year, which went by very quickly.

I am not sure what else to say about, or what I have learned from, this. This post will probably remain an unpublished draft until I can find a way to craft it into a better... something.  The band itself, after winning some Grammys, has announced an indefinite hiatus, which I do not begrudge them.  They have been working very hard non-stop for a full year at least, and I could not ask for more except a concert film, which may yet come about since at least their Forest Lawn concert seemed to have been professionally recorded in both audio and video in full.  A professionally recorded single of the "boyfriend song" would be nice, too.

Perhaps the best statement of a lesson from this experience was spoken in the previous century by a minor human character in "The Muppets Take Manhattan", which was "peoples is peoples". (Yes, I am aware that the phrasing, characterization and delivery of that line was racially/culturally problematic, but the core truth of it, especially in context, is stronger than the superficial aspects of the delivery.)