Story #8 "Electric Lash" -- The Church

"I turn to leave as if in a cameo..."

I first started listening to independent radio stations when I was thirteen. In that first year alone, I received a comprehensive crash course in music that I imagine is akin to working in a record store.

From Friday night until Sunday afternoon, there were radio blocks devoted to Soul, New Age, Jazz and "Modern Rock," which was essentially indie and college rock. I listened all of it with the same excitement. I was a sponge and it didn't matter what kind of aural water I soaked up.

Friday nights were special though, as I developed a bond with the DJ somehow. At least that's my explanation for it because how on earth could I have won so many tickets to see shows in one year otherwise? I'm certain it's because I was barely in my teens and my voice stood out among the Volvo-driving yuppie liberals who'd call in to pledge their support for independent radio whereas I was just calling to ask stuff like "Who is this Julian Cope?"

In that one year alone I saw the Smithereens, They Might be Giants, The Blue Aeroplanes and The Church.

The Church are one of those bands that have been around for a long time and are still cranking out amazing music in one form or another. They just released their twenty-fith album which is Man, Woman, Death, Life, Infinity and it's funny because the album is perhaps their most adventurous in some ways. There's nothing worse than when a band stops challenging themselves and kind of just settles in to rewrite the same album over and over again. This is not so with the Church. Their first six or so albums explored the psychedelic and melodic waters with ease, but ever since then, the songs have evolved and shifted into stranger territory. Steven Kilbey's voice is always the perfect rudder, though. Most people only know them for Under The Milky Way, the smash hit single with that insistent chorus. But wow do they have a lot of great songs.

Electric Lash is one of them. "The electric lash of trees in the studio fills my head with light." What an opener. The singer is transfixed by the voice of a girl on the radio. And then we get the chorus "Our eyes meet and I love her, I suspect she already knows. How those eyes see me so very very clearly, even when they're closed." If there's any complaint to the song it's the gated drums that overtake it. BUt that's really kind of the fault of the 80's. Perhaps they were trying to convey an electric lash sound?

The story "Electric Lash," came out of an experience I had going to see a friend's band who was playing in town. We arrived an hour early because in L.A. you are always going to be very early or very late. In this case we were early, but at least found great parking. So we spent the hour ducking in and out of bars without drinking anything because each place had the wrong type of crowd, which is a shocker in L.A., I know. But then we found this quiet unassuming place that was weirdly empty for a Saturday night and went inside.

The bar/restaurant really looked straight out of the 90's. Now, I know the fashion is already coming back (sadly) and the bartenders certainly looked like they came from a Delia's catalog but this was something else entirely.
The floors and ceiling and tabletops and menu items all seemed 90's as if we stepped into the oddest time warp ever because it was barely perceptible. Considering L.A. is weird enough as it is I would not have been surprised if someone told me it was a 90's-themed bar. That's when I thought about Y2k and the rest sort of fell in to place. If you find it slightly off putting that smart phones play such a huge part in the story, try marking down on a piece of paper how many times you check your phone in a day and get back to me.

A-Sides and B-Sides is available on iBook as well as Amazon and also Kobo and Nook. You can preview a nice chunk of it, too. Hope you'll consider buying if you like what you see. Here's what the cover looks like.

I love this version of "Electric Lash," as it's stripped of the 80's production, and ends up being a lot more Dylan-esque in the best sense of the word.