Yes, this is technically two albums... it isn't a double-album, but for me it might as well have been in the fall of 1998, when I discovered HUM.
The single "Stars" from HUM's previous disk, You'd Prefer an Astronaut, had some airplay on what was just beginning to be dubbed "Modern Rock" radio. I loved "Stars", but the radio personalities in Tulsa never announced who it was. In those days, you couldn't just Shazam your way into knowledge of a cool artist - if someone didn't tell you who made that awesome track blasting your car speakers into oblivion, you just didn't know.For this reason, when I had time to kill, you could usually find me in a record store listening through all the preview CD kiosks. It took either a very confident or very stupid artist and a label with money to burn to get a CD in one of those headphone-attached CD players welded into the display aisles. The major labels certainly didn't want anyone deciding not to spend their $15 on a CD because they actually got to hear the thing ahead of time. Why, they just might find out the versions of those Poe songs on the radio aren't even ON the stinkin' CD, not to mention her other songs sound like a mental patient found a cheap keyboard and a tape recorder. I did discover a few artists had great albums via those kiosks though. I digress...
HUM's Downward is Heavenward album happened to be in such a kiosk at Blockbuster Music (remember them?) in Tulsa on one of my time-killer excursions. The opening track, "Isle of the Cheetah", has a very long intro. But once I heard Matt Talbot's voice, I knew this was the same band from that single I couldn't trace months before. Nobody sounds like Matt. Nobody. Love his voice or hate it - there's no disputing his uniqueness.
It wasn't just that I found the answer to a music riddle. It wasn't just that these were some stellar musicians playing some cool songs. This was the sound I had been chasing on my own projects for years. Heavy. Super heavy. Spinal damage via your ear canal heavy. But there was no growling, screaming, testosterone overloaded frontman barking about darkness and how he was tougher than death. No fake macho bull to appeal to skinny teenage boys in black t-shirts, just some killer melody lines sung by a guy who was only moderately able to carry a tune. This was space rock of the highest degree.
I had been trying to make music of this sort through a few different bands I was in, but nobody else seemed to get it. HUM was making the albums I wished I could make. So I, of course, bought this album and its predecessor.
Most albums that hit me spend a lot of time on repeat in my CD player (or now, my iPod), and these 2 were no exception. Truly, they drove me to exceed even my normal predisposition for immersing myself in a record. I played these HUM albums constantly. I became certifiably addicted to these disks - I just didn't feel normal unless I was listening to HUM. I never got tired of them, but on rare occasion I desired something softer to fit a different mood I was in, and so I'd spin through Frente's Marvin The Album (a sugary female-fronted Australian pop group my friend Phillip hipped me to) once and then get right back to HUM. This went on for nearly a year.
When I finally recognized how disturbingly fixated I was with these albums, I gave them to a friend for safe keeping to kick my HUM habit back down to a healthy level. If I had ever found like-minded musicians (and a drummer good enough - Bryan St. Pere deserves to be mentioned alongside John Bonham and Dave Grohl as one of the best rock drummers to ever pick up the sticks), I probably would have been very happy playing in a HUM cover band for the rest of my life.Alas, as with so many of my favorite band's albums, this would be HUM's last. The group was dropped from their label and broke up. I learned that Matt Talbot went on to start his own recording studio in Illinois. So it's no suprise that when it came time for me to produce an album for my then band, Skyblynde, I sought Matt out and booked time at Great Western Record Recorders (now renamed Earth Analog) in Champaign, IL.
That experience is worthy of a blog entry on its own. I returned to Matt's studio to record the drums for the Hello God This is Gregory Hyde album. I've heard few drum tracks from other studios that can compare to the sonic quality of what Matt's live room offers.
I still play these albums often, and each time I wonder to myself, "Why don't I just listen to this every day and ignore everything else on my iPod?" I still have no answer for that question.
