I live in the outer suburbs of DC. While the area is a hotbed
of musical styles, surf music has never been one of them. For
that reason, while browsing in the "slightly scratched" section of the local used CD store a year or two ago, I was surprised to find an album that claimed to be "pure surf". Beyond this, it had an enticing photo on the front and was marked down to only $3.99. How could I resist?
Aqua Velvets come from San Francisco, and according to Nomad's liner notes, it's their third album. I liked it immediately, but in a much different way than I do now. It was kitschy fun, something to round out my music collection. It took me a couple of years to find its true brilliance.
Why did it take me a while to really get into Nomad? It has a lot to do with the album's
subtle style. Beyond the basic "surf" sound, the music has a Spanish/Spaghetti-Western feel, and the band ties it all together with a little lounge. There are twelve instrumental tracks here. Sometimes the music shimmers, and at other times it's mellow, but it never takes any really sharp
turns and consequently never hits you over the head like, say, emo. At
the same time, there's something about the lead guitar playing that pulls the
music out of the background. When lead guitarist Miles Corbin plays those
high scales, you find yourself pleasantly tweaked, and when he bends those
high notes, you might even catch yourself playing a little air guitar.
And the way the guitar tiptoes out of the background, as far fetched as this may
sound, reminds me of Miles Davis' Kind of Blue. In a similar fashion, Kind of
Blue establishes itself in the background, but as you're reading a book
or something, creeps into the foreground and becomes part of the night.
In this way, there are no stand-out songs, because they all lend
themselves to a very similar overall picture -- but at the same time, each
song strokes this overall picture in a different way.
Nomad's title track seems to be the album's thesis; the music hints at tumbleweeds and
a lifestyle on the go. The melodies go back and forth between Morricone-styled spaghetti-western and Dale-derived surf, establishing the peaceful coexistence of the similar styles. The rest of the disc is dedicated to taking you
to different places -- not unlike the wanderings of the titular character. "In a Spanish Mood" puts you in a blistering hot town in South America. "Return to Paia" walks you
into the local bar on an exotic Caribbean island. "Surf Nouveau" evokes the
beaches of California, and "Smoking Panatelas on the Mediterranean Sea" slips
you snugly into a beach chair looking out onto a beautiful ocean. All of these
songs begin with their own distinctive sound, but in an extremely satisfying way, they slowly
melt into the amazing feel of the opener.
Overall, Nomad is an appealing mix of the angst of Jack
Kerouac's On the Road and the wistful fun of Endless Summer.
You can't avoid thinking about the satisfaction front-man Miles Corbin
(whoever he is) would feel if he knew that his creation had drifted far afield, winding
up in an exotic used CD shop -- and then, thousands of
miles from where it was originally conceived, in the hands of one whom surf
has never touched.
-- Josh Kazman
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