Java.Dec.2.2015

Sweetbleeders are a legendary Phoenix band that over
the last 16 years have graced us with some amazing
music, both on record and on stage. Two years ago they
posted a three-song sampler on Bandcamp urging fans
to purchase it to assist in funding their next full-length
album (their first since 2007’s bzzz). Last month this
dream became a reality, and I have to say that We Were
Never Here is a latter-day baroque pop masterpiece.
I first became aware of Sweetbleeders in 2009 when
they covered Let’s Have Fun’s “Merrily” for the landmark
When in AZ compilation. At that time, they already
had a decade under their belt. Over the years the band
has featured many amazing musicians on their roster,
including the late Mark Erickson (Colorstore) and Mike
Montoya (Fatigo), among others. I remember them as
being the brother band to Colorstore, mainly because
Sweetbleeders was fronted by Robin Vining with
Erickson on guitar—whereas Colorstore was fronted by
Erickson with Vining as a multi-instrumentalist. It was a
beautiful setup, so there is some bittersweet joy in the
fact that Sweetbleeders continue to this day.
The Sweetbleeders 2015 lineup is a pretty impressive
one, featuring members both old and new, with Robin
Vining at the helm (vocals, guitar, piano and other stuff),
Steven Dueck (drums), David Marquez (bass), Keith
Kelly (flute, sax, clarinet), Megyn Neff (violin), and Jon
Rauhouse (pedal steel guitar) and featuring Brendan
Dueck (melodica and keys), as well as the late Amy Ross
providing additional vocals on the record. It’s something
of a dream lineup, and this is definitely a dreamy
album. It should also be mentioned, due to the record’s
rich production value, that it was engineered by Mike
Hissong with Catherine Vericolli and Dominic Armstrong
at 513 Studios.
There is something that makes this the perfect Arizona
winter album. It begins with the sound of singing birds,
and then dark bass tones and melancholic strings kick
in. This is “Albuterol I,” the short introductory invocation
and the first of four “Albuterol” pieces found throughout.
It ends as it began, with singing birds.
You may think that you’ve walked into Pet Sounds–era
Beach Boys at the start of the stunning “Dumptruck,”
with organ, sleigh bells and all the instrumentation. One
of the songs that appeared on the preview sampler, it
is musically amazing and lyrically quizzical, revolving
around a vicious woman. Ending with almost a sense
of understanding, it’s as sweet as it is jaded, and the
discord between the sunshine of the music and the
pointedness of the lyrics is thoroughly enjoyable.
“Albuterol II” follows, and it’s another from the sampler,
but in this case it’s about a lost friend, an affection for
mixing asthma medication with alcohol, and a guilty
lost look back upon one’s past. It’s a stunner, and while
I could speculate what or who it is about, I’d rather just
quote the touching final lyrics: “Guilt’s the bitch, let’s
share it ’cause it wasn’t only you, hearts and loves stick
in your throat, trapped inside a dreaming ghost, wish
that I could hear you, friend, talking on the other end.”
Hauntingly enough, the song features vocals by the
late Amy Ross from Nowhere Man & The Whiskey Girl,
sadly, perfectly.
There is a cabaret jazz joy to the wry-spirited “On Their
Backs,” which seems as political as it does derogatory.
With a catchy piano and ukulele melody and a delivery
akin to a theatrical-pop number by Queen, it is where
the charm of Vining’s vision and song writing truly start
to enchant. It is the ultimate pop song about sex and
death, eros and thanos, and it is delightfully clever in
every capacity.
There is almost a hint of soft surf guitar to “Some
Curiosity,” in a “Sleepwalk” sort of way. It also
becomes evident that Vining has an unworldly,
beautiful voice that comes from some source on
high. This is one of the most lovely ballads I’ve heard
in ages, and there is no irony in it, just a lovely song
superbly executed. Yearnful, mournful and beautiful all
at once—so dreamy it almost hurts.
If “Someway” isn’t a clear single from the album, I’m
not sure what would be. It is drawn from a 15-yearold
solo recording by Vining and features Ross, as
well as some of the best drumming by Dueck on the
album. It is another gorgeous number, with an amazing
rollicking flow, yet it is clearly born out of sadness and
loss. I suppose there is a lot of that here, and maybe
that’s the gift of this album, an alchemical process that
transforms our common tragic events into something
uplifting and majestic.
The first jaunty semi-instrumental in the center of
the album is called “Bicycle Sex,” which sounds like
cartoon music or possibly the theme for a bawdy silent
film. Either way, it is a hilarious romp, suggested only by
the music, laughs and “doo doo doo doo doo doo doo.”
Meanwhile, “Albuterol III” continues the pervasive theme,
combining elements from the album so far, including singing
birds, while introducing clarinet and trumpet to the mix.
These instrumental songs are the centerpiece of the album,
and if it is issued on vinyl, they would clearly be the end
and beginning of their respective sides.
The baroque pop continues right along with “Sleeping
Beauty,” which seems to channel their inner Ben Folds
a bit in a cautionary tale that challenges our beautycharged
society and the cosmetic surgery industry. The
harmonies are simply heavenly on this piano-based
number, with enough of a mid-20 th -century dance hall
vibe to keep you grinning. In the end our protagonist
declares, “I’m so glad we’re sharing our apple a day,
keeping those quacks and butchers away, we will grow
old and ugly anyway.”
The title track is the last from the preview sampler, and
it’s another single-worthy tune. Featuring amazing
violin from Megyn Neff and pedal steel by Jon
Rauhouse, it is another song of sadness, loss
and self-reflection, and it creates a comforting
beauty, like your favorite blanket. Slightly hypnotic
and soothing, with probably one of the simplest
arrangements on the album, it concludes with,
“People you know, are kinda funny, people you
know, you never know ’em at all.”
With a wistful violin introduction from Neff, “No
Pain” is slow and lovely, fl oating with beautiful
harmonies, a melodica and stunning percussion,
until it goes off the rails completely as Vining
waxes poetic about a backyard pet cemetery and
even lists its occupants. It is at once childlike and
sinister, a feeling brought forth from the hyperbolic
cartoon soundtrack. It finishes as it began, drifting off
into memory and a bit of aural bliss.
The final Albuterol installment (“Albuterol IV”) returns
to the theme, now drawing in violin, guitar, piano,
harmonica and more. There is a sole lyrical passage:
“Albuterol, how I depend on you...” as if added by an
angelic choir, but the song ends with ominous chords
and crazed guitar while cymbals crash.
“Back in Time (Remember the Night Waltz)” seems like
a song from a long time ago (at the very least the ’90s
but perhaps as far back as the ’50s). It’s a piano-driven
lullaby, and it is indeed a waltz. I imagine a beautiful
moonlit starry sky and a grand piano in the middle of an
open grassy field. It’s a romantic, nostalgic piece, full
of smiling memories, that concludes with a wonderful
vision: “I’m back in time with you, come back in time
with me.” It would seem to be a great ending, but that
wouldn’t be Sweetbleeders’ way.
Thus, the doo-wop groove of “Stupid Face” is the
grand finale—an uproarious piano rager about ending
a relationship with a terrible partner who wants the
torture to go on. The song reduces the band to the
core trio of Vining, Dueck and Marquez, and the album
could end no other way: with a laugh and a smile, once
again about horrible things. “Are you crazy? Are you
nuts? What makes you think I ain’t had enough of your
stupid face and those bad mistakes that are ruining my
life?” Vining sings with a hilarious delivery that masks a
vicious attack.
We Were Never Here has been four years in the making,
following the sampler. It’s the first new complete work
since 2008’s EP, The Lightning Bug Luau. After all this
time, Sweetbleeders are still able to put out a relevant
indie pop record that sounds as fresh and fantastic.