Chris Church - She Looks Good In Black
With one exception out of the 12 songs here, these came to me after finishing my previous album RADIO TRANSIENT, a specifically stylized, '80s influenced record, released in 2023. There were a couple that carry on that ethic, a sort of propulsive twitchy pop thing (“Sit Down”, “I'm A Machine”). Others suggest country rock (“She Looks Good In Black”, “The Great Divide”), there's a bit of eclectic progginess (“Vice Versa”), plus heavy-ish power pop (“Running Right Back To You”), jangly alternative (“Life On A Trampoline”), grungy spook (“Like A Sucker”) and perhaps the Lindsey Buckingham-iest song I've ever written (“I Don't Wanna Be There”). They're all bookended with two confessional singer-songwriter-type acoustic folk songs, “Obsolete Path” and “What Are We Talking About?”
The exception is "Tell Me What You Really Are," which I wrote 20 years ago about the single most important experience of my life. I'd briefly met my wife Lori Franklin 7 years earlier and I thought I'd never see her again, but on December 8th, 2004, I did. She was on a date with a handsome German guy that night, but I asked for her number, got it, called it, and we talked until 3AM. We have been together ever since. Anyway, after we talked, I then wrote and recorded a quick demo of “TMWYRA”, got about 30 minutes of sleep, and went into work. I eventually recorded the song for my album The Heartbreaks You Embrace, but didn't use it. I heard it a different way in my head all these years later, and it seemed to make sense to try to properly re-cut it.
Several of the new songs are a bit uncharacteristic for me lyrically. I don't write with my actual relationship in mind very often, since there's very little tension from which to ever draw anything that interests me. I also don't have any intentions of writing "Happy Together" or "Baby Loves Love"-type songs; that's for someone else. Anyway, that song seemed to fit with the rest after I'd modified it, and although it's never been the type of song that could be a single, it's kind of serving here as the centerpiece that binds the 11 newer songs together.
The theme of Obsolete Path is, among other interpretations everyone is free to glean, the obstinance it can take to retain basic hope as one gets older and the world gets weirder. To take that cliché up another notch, realizing that hope and love are the only things worth fighting for comes with the knowledge that magic comes less often, if you don't fight to retain some of your innocence. It's not just about the inevitability of death, it's choosing a path that may seem to be becoming obsolete for the sake of your soul, no matter how old you are. When you're bored of how your natural cynicism is telling you nothing matters, you have to decide if you're just going to let your heart check out. I think part of what was on my mind for these songs is how to turn willful self-delusion into a workable scenario that isn't unacceptably pathetic... but how would you know, right? "Life On A Trampoline", right?
Musically, I wanted to see if I could accommodate several styles into a dozen songs that maybe shouldn't work together. I really think it does work, and I'm proud of this record. My good friend Brian Beaver, who is the drummer for my progressive metal band DÄNG, played drums on the record. I couldn't be happier, he's one of the best all around artists I've ever met. I'm also fortunate to have two co-writes on the album with Lori, and one with my legendary friend Bill Lloyd (Foster & Lloyd, Sky Kings, Sgt. Arms, Cheap Trick, Long Players, and a fantastic solo career). The ace up my sleeve for several albums has been the good sense to invite my super talented friend Lindsay Murray to sing harmonies with me, and they're all over this album. Nick Bertling mixed the whole thing, and did some post-production stuff. It was produced by me and the lovely and aforementioned Lori Franklin (known on social media as Lori Chanklin, and in this context as “Madame Producer”).
