Cobwebs In the Closet #1: Unwound

Unwound is quite possibly the greatest BAND I've ever listened to, a mercurial aural juggernaut whose remarkable ten-year career saw each record deftly navigating between extremes of volume, rhythm, melody, and texture. I came to the group off a vague recommendation from a friend and a half-remembered review from Tower Records' free in-store magazine (remember Pulse!? Adorable!). This was 2001, the year Unwound put out their masterful swansong Leaves Turn Inside You and subsequently announced that their next tour would be their last. I had the mixed blessing of never getting to see the band live, the tradeoff being I had their glorious, full catalogue sitting before me, just waiting to be swallowed whole by my still-soft teenage brain. And I was totally blown away.

But it was that confused state of wonder where you're in love with something a little dangerous, a little esoteric, a little intimidating, and thoroughly sexy. I really didn't think I'd ever heard music like this before. Naturally, one could say their affinity for prolonged, feedback-laden, "what the fuck?"-eliciting dirges had its antecedents in Sonic Youth, and sure, their devastatingly beautiful, arpeggiated interludes could also be traced to Sonic Youth. But really, Unwound was speaking its own kind of Esperanto. I'd never listened to a band whose sound, with each record, grew...a lot. Earlier tracks like "Hexenzsene," and the 14-minute gem "Valentine Card/Kantina/Were, Are And Was Or Is" experimented with explosive, anthemic choruses and oh-so-quiet passages bathed in cymbal wash and gentle guitar patterns. And then, unpredictably, their middle period found the band exploiting insistent grooves as a newfound counterpoint to their tense repetition, as in the 1996 track "Corpse Pose." Finally, in 2001, after disappearing into the Washington state backwoods for two years to build a studio and record an album, they put out their final, most dense, and unrecognizable record Leaves Turn Inside You, a double album comprised of Eno-like soundscapes, William Faulkner references, and an 11-minute Led Zeppelin knock-off.

For about three years, before I began my still-hopeless cathexis with TV On the Radio, I was convinced that this was the greatest rock record ever made. It was so utterly singular and so totally remarkable listening to their first records, and then finally ending up with this. It seemed they'd even written a pop song, just as a sort of "bet you didn't think we could do this either" (the lovably hummable and slightly funky "Demons Sing Love Songs"). Now I'm older and a little less attracted to hyperbole, so I wouldn't say it's the greatest rock record ever, but I don't shirk away from saying it's still a mind-blowing album that (thankfully) rewards with time.

The past few years I took a break from Unwound, becoming more attracted by the idea of loving a lot of bands rather than championing one. And as I became slightly more politicized than my 15 year-old self, I'd pay special attention artists who were manufacturing mind-bending sounds while at the same time weaving thoughtful, "socially conscious" narratives in their lyrics (like Parts & Labor, have you listened to "The Gold We're Digging"?!). However vague the words may have been, I for some reason appreciated their intent. And when I decided to write about Unwound, I thought about how their words weren't as like-mindedly convicted as Parts & Labor, or TVOTR, or Fugazi. In the definitive Unwound interview, guitarist/singer/lyricist Justin Trosper openly talks about his lyrics being more "wordplay" than anything else. And I remember being offended by that. For so long I'd been totally invested in Unwound's strange, cynical yet strangely profound lyrics (ex: "The drawback/To living/Is finding yourself"). And to hear them dismissed as "wordplay" negated everything that felt legitimate to me at the time. But now I'm realizing that Trosper never said his words didn't have meaning or significance, because if nothing else, they were huge for me. And in my book, that's a giant check-plus written in fat black sharpie.

These days I don't hear much about Unwound apart from a few gigs producing bands at their Mag Rec One studio. Drummer Sara Lund was recently one of the awesome 77 drummers at the Boredoms' 77 Drum performance. Bassist/singer Vern Rumsey has had a couple of projects of his own (Long Hind Legs, Red Rumsey) that have put out a few records. And rumor has it that Justin Trosper stopped making music, unsure of whether or not he believes in music anymore as an expressive medium for him. Bummer, right?

Way back in 2001, when I finally "got" Leaves Turn Inside You, I kind of felt similarly, that this was the most supreme product of musical creation, that this was the end of music as we knew it and that there was no way anyone could cook up anything more substantial than this. Now I don't quite feel that way, but I recognize that for a long time the music was something otherworldly and illuminating to me, redefining what seemed possible to my young mind. And I'd hope that maybe that'd be reason enough for Justin Trosper to keep doing something he did so well for so long.

Even if it is just wordplay.

~ Ashraf



Unwound - Hexenzsene (CLICK TO DOWNLOAD)

Unwound - Corpse Pose (CLICK TO DOWNLOAD)

Unwound - Demons Sing Love Songs (CLICK TO DOWNLOAD)