Ball of Wax Audio Quarterly

When I hear a jaunty strum, I get suspicious. Especially in this (still-new) century, when it seems pop radio stations have been flooded with the likes of Something & Sons, Of Somethings and Somethings, and a plethora of others. Don’t get me wrong (or do, if you prefer), but even the most stadium-ready banjo-led singalongs often feel designed more for stomps and hoots than real emotion in this gray new world.

And so I cast my mind back to the great jangly guitar bands of the twentieth century’s latter days—namely, Beachwood Sparks (“alternative country” and not afraid to experiment) and the Posies (undisputed masters of crafting pop melodies and then turning them on their heads)—and remember what once was and how it remains as fresh as ever. I could go more recent and still find good examples: Maestro Echoplex in the ’00s (able to take single chords to the extreme and have you salivating by the time the progression appears) and First Aid Kit in the 20-teens (fight me on this one if you dare, but they can put together incredible arrangements).

In the first several seconds of “Life Without the Sun” by the Gabes, my suspicion is quickly dispelled. The strumming and the dreamy slow and wavering chord clusters call to mind the latter two acts I referenced, but when those vocals enter, I know that the Gabes come well-educated from the school of Beachwood and Posies. This is a blessing on the one hand because we need bands like the Gabes to keep such tenderly-played acoustic guitars and heartfelt-yet-almost-disappearing-into-the-ether alive and well; and on the other because they learned from their forebears not to simply emulate, but to mutate.

“Life Without the Sun” is stunning in its execution, achingly delightful (or delightfully aching?) in its lyrics, and would make any emotive strummer worth their salt forest green with envy. Every lap steel coo, every sparkling lick on the narrower-gauged strings, and every reverb-dripping restrained riff (and this song is honestly packed with such works) is so well placed as to make one wonder how long this song has taken to evolve to this point (if somebody tells me it simply “came about on the spot,” then I’m just going to give up completely as an artist), but I cannot emphasize enough that all of the preceding suddenly melts into immediate nostalgia at the five-minute mark. You have to listen to understand why, because I can’t put the coda into words that will do it justice. I can only say thank the gods that the Gabes paid attention in class.

Do not miss the rare chance to see the Gabes live this Sunday at the Ball of Wax 69 release show.