Marc Laurick – tourbillons
(2013, self-released)
Marc Laurick is part of the rhythm section for a growing number of Seattle-based musicians– something like a contemporary Leland Sklar of The Section. I can’t think of how many songwriters he’s sat in with, but I believe I’m the only person related to Ball of Wax who hasn’t recorded a song with the rangey bassist. [Editor’s note: I have yet to have the pleasure. -Levi] I have photos of him backstage with David Guilbault, a damned intelligent local songwriter with that all-too-rare baritone singing voice.
So what does it sound like when the man who lays the foundation for songwriters to stand upon . . . speaks? (Figuratively. I’ve heard him speak to me, and he has a vaguely Philadelphia accent, but then I’ve been in Seattle so long, I don’t really know what conversation sounds like anymore.)
Well, being a proper bassist, it sounds like a full band. And the band Mr. Laurick has chosen on the first solo project of his that I’ve been made aware of is smart. I’d say you need to be smart to tackle a Tennessee Williams poem, “We Have Not Long To Love.” That song, which closes out the dizzying triplet of material that opens tourbillions contains one of those tricky time signatures I can’t think of guessing.
Here I’ll take a hazard at a review.
tourbillons, as an album, is like a graduate thesis on the album-oriented rock song. Every drum beat feels studied, unique, and there for a purpose–not just for expression, not just for angst. I’ve asked about the production; I had to after I heard the build up on the opening track, “the golden one” (one thing I can’t figure out is the change from caps to lower case on the tracks). The opening has a floating, crystal clear trumpet crescendo that I knew could not be local. Turned out Michael Navedo, originally from New Orleans, had laid it down. (There’s also outstanding guitar work by Pornadoes/Slow Skate/ Prom Queen/lord knows what else guitarist Jason Goessl, there’s some proggy mandolin work by Paul Beaudry, and Colin Nelson fills out on drums and his now legendary whistling.) The production–from what I’ve been told–involved guest musicians who were asked to record quickly. That you can’t tell. But you can hear that the musicians play off of each other, instead of moving to the front.
As a song, at its heart, is still a collection of rhythm and melody, no matter what instrumentation and who’s performing, Marc was clearly the author of the rhythms and melody. The polyrhythms–a favorite is a rhythm section choir part on the second track “lavender gray”–are fascinating. As parts build off each other (and most of the songs on tourbillons follow a format of “here’s a crazy-ass bass riff you probably don’t think can expand, but . . . yeah it can”), there’s a richness of texture you just don’t get from rock music often, not without some synthetic garbage tossed in for filler.
What makes this all work, all these brains putting together songpuzzles, is the voice of the bass-dude, Marc. An often almost spoken upper baritone, Marc Laurick’s singing downplays the song structure. It’s the touchstone. As songs take off, as choirs and saws fill the air, you have this straightforward delivery, this honest, resonant voice that is perfectly at home, no matter what rhythm is going on beneath it. (I’ll say it: It’s like if Jay Farrar were anchoring a version of Wilco that was less laid back . . . and German. The kind of voice where you say, “Oh, you people can sing like that? Sounds like a grown up.”)
All this is to say, it works. It’s new, different, unapologetic, sincere. A local musician put some dedication and thought into a project, and when you hear it, you know it.
Marc Laurick’s tourbillons is a modest reminder that all of us who consider ourselves songwriters could do more, reach a little further, and try to engage a lot more of the palate.
You can buy tourbillons on bandcamp at The China Sea Recordings site.