YO LA TENGO
I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One (1997)
Matador Records
Produced by ROGER MOUTENOT
Fuck defining the times. What we need is more rock bands that ignore the times, the ones without ulterior motives to offset the significance of the music. Or maybe the insignificance; so many of the best singles of the '90s were dumb bubblegum, dance, or even grunge pop songs that charmed through their lack of baggage. But you can make interesting and intelligent music without sounding like an asshole or concocting operatic MEAT IS MURDER/THE DOWNWARD SPIRAL schemes.
Enter Yo La Tengo, who by 1997 had been beloved alternative-rock underdogs since the mid-'90s and were long the most critically beloved band of the post-R.E.M.-goes-to-Warner-Bros. era. I CAN HEAR THE HEART BEATING AS ONE was their breakthrough longplayer and it remains their most successful. Through some strangely regular airplay of their rendition of a long-forgotten "My Little Corner of the World" I discovered it and, after suffering with confusion and maybe denial for a while, became enchanted.
The band is essentially the husband-wife team of guitarist Ira Kaplan (ex-rock critic) and drummer Georgia Hubley (daughter of animators John & Faith), with finally a cemented addition in 1991 with the arrival of bass player James McNew (formerly of Christmas). The first thought of most people upon hearing their music was "the Velvet Underground," not so much because of their sound -- to say nothing of the similarities between Kaplan and Lou Reed, Hubley and Moe Tucker -- but, I'd venture to guess, their restlessness.
In exploring rock music you run into some performers that can't be pinned down, and almost invariably, those are the ones worth listening to. Your Depeche Modes who can master a signature sound from hundreds of angles are a rarity. Having known the Velvet Underground only through aesthetic means -- unable to sense the weight of their eclectic abilities -- I favored clearer comparisons. My Bloody Valentine was clear from the single "Sugarcube," and MBV mastermind Kevin Shields remixed their "Autumn Sweater" for an EP this same year. I could sense Pavement in "Stockholm Syndrome," the Byrds in "Return to Hot Chicken," the Beach Boys on "Center of Gravity" (for its spirit if not its sound, and more on the "Little Honda" cover in a bit).
The line of description I've come to favor is probably not a popular one, but the truth hurts. Continuing legacies is not what rock & roll is about, and let's be entirely clear on this: Yo La Tengo is an outstanding band, the best one running today, and they are a completely original voice. That's precisely why, despite their small-scale indie status, I think of the Beatles when I hear them. If you have trouble with that, start with both bands' cover versions. On LIVE AT THE STAR CLUB, the Beatles threaten to destroy the eponymous venue with a roaring "Sweet Little Sixteen," a song that -- while wonderful and full of life on Chuck Berry's single -- doesn't explode to half that magnitude in its original incarnation. Compare "Little Honda," an intricate and playful Brian Wilson production for certain, but Yo La Tengo seem to inhabit it, transferring it to a CBGB's shoegazer Velvets hybrid taking in a lifetime of rock mythology to complement an outstanding composition. No matter if the Beach Boys classic remains definitive, because whatever the results, the point is that in their moment, Yo La Tengo are more at one with the song than they are paying homage to it.
So continue on to their originals, all of them exhibiting lyrical wisdom and musical subtlety that still jumps out and bites you when it desires. They can make the sweetest pop songs you've heard in years -- china-delicate "Shadows," grinning-heartbreak bossa nova "Center of Gravity" -- or they can squeal with ten minutes of the intense instrumental "Spec Bebop." I think about the way Beatles singles like "Day Tripper" and "Rain" exploded with pop warmth yet always included something off-kilter and bizarre that made the songs all the more endearing. This band does it without hesitation, understanding the appeal of adventure and the joy of oddity, and I CAN HEAR THE HEART BEATING AS ONE offers an album-size expansion of these ideas, which is why it is the ideal starting point for anyone who wants to know what the hell this group "sounds like."
It's not out of restraint, though, that this forms probably the most accessible point of their output. I think just about every decade offers some LP that reveals an artist at some kind of peak, willing to try anything and not afraid to put it all out in the open comprehensively. What's more, everything the performer tries not only works but redefines boundaries and musical ideas. The '60s and '70s are obvious -- the White Album, basically undeniable, and the Clash's LONDON CALLING, which may as well be considered the seminal LP-sized statement of rock prowess. The '80s are tougher, but I nominate SIGN O' THE TIMES, Prince's most fully realized and eclectic effort. The '90s? In case you couldn't figure out where this paragraph was headed, I'll present the evidence.
"Moby Octopad" clashes electrofunk grooves with morbid vocals and guitar wheezing plus a loopy instrumental break; "Sugarcube" is the rock statement, with Kaplan's guitar heroics but soft-as-snow vocals; "Deeper into Movies," named after a Pauline Kael book, stars Georgia Hubley at the top of her lungs over a galaxy of noise that fills a room; "Shadows" follows mourful marital woes with the glimmer of hope in an electrified trumpet; "Center of Gravity" is a whisper of unheard-of grace that seems to have existed for years. And if you like, there's the massive "We're an American Band" (not the Grand Funk song), throwing it all into a single package.
But to mistake innovation for greatness would be a crime indeed, and what marks those songs is -- here's where Lou Reed comes in -- the same thing that marks "Head Held High" or "Rock & Roll" or any of the LOADED-era conventional bids for commercial justice: they are simply beautifully written and will never leave your head. Instant standards like they made back when Leiber and Stoller were there to produce 'em.
Case in point: the highlights are the most easily-pinpointed tracks. So let's say that "Stockholm Syndrome" is classic Brit-Invasion-derived acoustic indie, with that almost classicist structure of the awesome electric solo in the break -- if so, it jumps directly to the front of the pack anyway to become, in all honesty, one of the finest songs of its time. And it wasn't even a single! Or maybe you've heard "Damage" before as described, certainly if you've given LOVELESS a careful listen -- almost a dirge, full of atmosphere and echo and airy Eno percussive effects amid an omnipresent wall of feedback. And it's a tale of communication breakdown. But Ira Kaplan's songwriting and voice are full of such clarity and perceptive strength that, on conviction alone, you have a song that in many ways is superior to anything Kevin Shields has written. It's just that Yo La Tengo's attention span is not made for a record like LOVELESS. As soon as the point is made, it's on to the next idea. ("Lost in the Supermarket," "Death or Glory," "Wrong 'Em Boyo," "Koka Kola," "Brand New Cadillac," "Train in Vain" / "Rocky Raccoon," "Julia," "Happiness is a Warm Gun," "Why Don't We Do It in the Road?," "Cry Baby Cry," "Helter Skelter," "Sexy Sadie.")
If the instrumentals on this record can be written off as mood pieces, it's at the price of a good bit of the album's impact on the listener, the way it absorbs and seduces with detail. I've heard people call "Let's Go Away for Awhile" a mood piece too, you know. "Return to Hot Chicken" feels like what it's supposed to be," "Green Arrow" as good a transition as I can imagine (U2's "4th of July" was only marginally better), and this wouldn't be a Yo La Tengo record without the big long jinx moment, "Spec Bebop"; it's a joy to revel in it.
It's tempting to skirt over "One PM Again" and "The Lie and How We Told It," but it's the little things that count. Maybe these are undistinguished tidbits, but they take their time, and once "One PM Again" reaches you you'll be glad. And "The Lie and How We Told It" is merely passable, but it never worked all that well for the band either -- they've rarely, if ever, performed it live. As for "My Little Corner of the World," well, we need a closing statement, don't we? And this one says an awful lot in its gentle way.
On the whole, I CAN HEAR THE HEART BEATING AS ONE was probably made by people who hoped to leave an impression, and it does. Yo La Tengo's work is all-encompassing and unstoppable. Each of their other albums, before and since, dives into one of their characteristics to uncover a world of nuance. For this album, they exposed their every impulse and created something divine that sits apart, certainly in their catalog, but especially in the heart of modern pop music.